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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24027601">Of Myths and Monsters</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/for_darkness_shows_the_stars/pseuds/for_darkness_shows_the_stars'>for_darkness_shows_the_stars</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Gods &amp; Goddesses, Alternate Universe - Regency, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Anakin is stuck in the between, And will hopefully die a painful death by the end of this, Angst, F/M, Fluff, He and Ahsoka are the bane of the Jedi Council, Is it kidnapping if it's consensual?, Jedi are gods, Lots of backstory, Manipulative Sheev Palpatine, Obi-Wan is Tired, Padme is perfect, Sith are Demons, Slow Burn, War, also as usual, as usual, i guess, strap in kiddos this is gonna be a ride and a half, who is a dick</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-03 01:28:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>25,769</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24027601</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/for_darkness_shows_the_stars/pseuds/for_darkness_shows_the_stars</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The younger Princess of Naboo, Padmé Naberrie, is rather resigned to spending the rest of her life as the decoration on the arm of her fiancé, but when she goes for a walk in the gardens on the most frightening night of the year, destiny quite literally lands at her feet. </p><p>She is thrust into the cruel, deceptive world of the Jedi and the Sith, and becomes one of the key players in the final act of their millennia-long conflict.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Anakin Skywalker &amp; Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi &amp; Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala &amp; Ahsoka Tano, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala/Darth Vader, Sheev Palpatine &amp; Anakin Skywalker</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>139</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>182</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. I - The Feast for Souls</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Enjoy!!!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>I</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>The Feast for Souls</strong>
</p><p>A procession drifted lazily from the streets of Theed to the Godscrown Hill, illuminated by the light of the fledgling day. Most of the city folk were a part of it, destitute widows walking clenching strings of praying beads in their withered hands, shoulder-to-shoulder with vivacious sons of the noble lords, whose black apparel was stitched with golden threads, children, rich and poor, meandering through the adults’ legs, too young to fully understand the implications of the holiday.</p><p>At the head of the ceremony marched the Naboo Royals. His Majesty King Ruwee walked elbow-in-elbow with his Queen. A step behind them, the Crown Princess and her husband, the Duke of Keren, held their two daughters by their hands, both girls uncharacteristically well-behaved. The last walked the younger Princess, and next to her, her betrothed, the Crown Prince of Scipio.</p><p>Despite the vast differences in class and standing, all who took part were dressed in their finest blacks, all mouthed soundless prayers. Their hushed, reverent breaths and the tremors of eight thousand feet were the only sounds to be heard.</p><p>And the crows.</p><p>Every year, without fail, crows were the only animals allowed to make a sound on this day, every other beast or pet silenced by the gods' ancient magic.</p><p>There was a story about that in the <em>Word of the Father</em>. It had always been the younger Princess’s favourite. She used to ask for it so much that her nursemaid had eventually learned it by heart, through no effort of her own other than telling it so many times.</p><p>Beneath her heavy lace veil, the Princess smiled.</p><p>
  <em>“One day,” Ellarie, her nursemaid, says late in the night, while tucking the tiny Princess in her bed, “while the Great War between the Children of the Daughter and the Children of the Son still raged all five realms, Vader was stalking a minor Spirit of the Light trough the Manarai Mountains of the Kingdom of Coruscant, hoping it would lead him to the secret encampment of the Jedi’s armies.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“And it did,” Padmé pipes in, face scrounged up and serious. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Ellarie chuckles, and puts a hand to the girl’s face. “If you know the story so well, Your Highness, why should I keep telling it?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The Princess’s eyes go wide with fear at the prospect, and she falls silent. The nursemaid takes this as a cue to continue. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“After three days and three nights of stealth, his efforts paid off, for the Spirit had taken him directly to the Jedi. He turned back, intending to report what he’d found to the Dark Sith Emperor, but then—”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“The Crow came!” Padmé squeals in delight, momentarily forgetting her promise.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Ellarie raises a brow, but does not taunt the Princess anymore. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Indeed,” she continues. “A large black bird swooped in before him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>‘My lord, my lord,’ the Crow called, ‘Father’s lastborn child! Hear me!’</em>
</p><p>
  <em>‘What is it, crow?’ Vader said. ‘Speak now, for I have a task to fulfil.’</em>
</p><p>
  <em>‘It’s your mother, my lord, a terrible fate has befallen her!’ the Crow tells him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Vader had never been corrupted as the actual Sith, who feel nor mercy nor love, so he felt great dread and distress.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>‘What has happened, bird, tell me now,’ he told the Crow, ‘for my mother is very dear to me.’</em>
</p><p>
  <em>‘She has been attacked by an evil so great it blackens the sky.’</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Together, Vader and the Crow travelled to the Kingdom of Tatooine, where the godling hails from.”</em>
</p><p><em>“And they found Vader’s mother,” Padmé</em> <em>says, her chubby little hands fisting the fabric of her covers. “Except she was being murdered by Sidious.”</em></p><p>
  <em>“Exactly,” Ellarie tells her. “The Sith Emperor was very angry that Vader was so attached to her, so he went to kill her. No-one would ever have known, had the Crow not seen him and fled to inform Vader.” She pats the girl’s head. “Do I need to continue the story, or …?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yes!” comes the vehement answer. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Well then … when Sidious saw that Vader had come, he fled immediately, for he was not powerful enough to defeat him.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Because Vader is the Father’s child!” Padmé bellows, triumphant. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Exactly. And no-one, not even Yoda, is as powerful as him.” Ellarie smiles faintly. “He rules death, after all, and death is the only certainty of life.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Little Padmé frowns. “But if he is so powerful … why is Yoda the King of All Gods?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Ellarie shrugs. “I do not know, Your Highness. You should probably ask Vader’s High Priestess that.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The Princess screws up her face. “But the next Feast of Souls is ages away!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Three months, Your Highness, it is not that long. Besides,” Ellarie adds when she sees the tormented expression on the Princess’s face, “if I had to guess … maybe Vader doesn’t want to be the King of All Gods. Maybe he prefers ruling the Realm of the Dead.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I guess,” the Princess says. “But continue!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“All right, all right, Your Highness, here it goes: even though Vader had been warned by the Crow, they had not been fast enough, and his mother passed away in his arms. But, he had arrived early enough to drive her essence out of her mortal soul, and make her into a constellation, so that she would always be with him.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“The Mother of the Death,” Padmé nods sagely.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I see you have been paying attention with your astronomy tutors, Princess,” Ellarie praises her. “Can you tell me what happens next?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Vader allied himself with the Jedi and defeated the Sith,” Padmé says triumphantly, clapping her hands.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“That came eventually, Your Highness. But before that, he turned to the Crow. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>‘Crow,’ said he, ‘you have served me valiantly. For that, I shall grant you immortality, so that you might be my eternal companion.’” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Ellarie smiles faintly. “And after he joined the Jedi’s forces, after he won the Great War for them and became the God of Death, he employed the Crow’s people to be his seekers, to carry the souls from the Mortal Realm to his kingdom.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Mustafar,” the Princess says, unblinking, and Ellarie has to supress a shudder. The Realm of the Dead is only called by its true name by those who wish to see it prematurely.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Do not say that name, Princess,” the nursemaid warns, wrapping her shawl tighter around her shoulders. “It is bad luck.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Her Highness bristles, but bids Ellarie to continue. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“And from this day on, the crows are the only animals allowed to speak during the Feast of the Dead, as an award, because only one of them was brave enough to warn Vader and risk Sidious’s ire. And after Lord Vos cursed all animals to lose the ability to speak the Commontongue, Vader protected the Crow from that dreadful fate.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Out of a sudden, the little Padmé yawns, nestling more comfortably into her silken sheets. Her eyes begin to droop. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Good night, little Princess,” Ellarie says, lips curving upwards, and places a featherlight kiss on the girl’s brow.</em>
</p><p>A touch on her elbow brought Padmé back to reality, and she snapped her head to her fiancé.</p><p>“Your Highness?” asked Prince Clovis, looking at her with worried eyes. And while Padmé appreciated his concern, she did not appreciate him breaking the rules of the holiday.</p><p>Speaking, unless it was prayers, was forbidden while marching to the Temple.</p><p>She tore her elbow away from his grip and cast him a scathing look, but she doubted he would be able to see it through her veil.</p><p>Ahead of them loomed Vader’s Temple, standing out among the others.  It was of simple design, a three-storey circular building, made of black marble and obsidian. Silken banners of scarlet hung from the forbidding walls and flaunted in the soft, warm breeze.</p><p>Three priests, features hidden by billowing black robes, awaited before the half-circle of columns that marked the entrance, bidding welcome to the arrivals.</p><p>The inside of Vader’s Temple was no less ominous than the outside. No natural light was allowed in the Sanctuary, the main space of the Temple, and even the fires lit in the bronze braziers flickered and danced, throwing threatening shades upon the walls, carved with reliefs.</p><p>Padmé felt someone tugging at her skirts, and she looked down, to see her youngest niece staring up at her with wide, frightened eyes. She didn’t say a word, as was the custom, but the pleading expression on her face communicated enough.</p><p>The Princess bend down and took Pooja into her arms, and let the girl bury her face into her shoulder.</p><p>Slowly, the royals made their way to their places in the first row of banks, and waited until the rest poured in. Most of the people would have to wait outside, in the temple courtyard.</p><p>Padmé focused her attention on the massive stone altar, and the three priestesses in black that glided towards it. The Umbaran woman in the middle had a circlet of gold that denoted her as the High Priestess to keep her veil in place, and carried a heavy, ancient book.</p><p>
  <em>The Word of the Father.</em>
</p><p>With a heavy thud, she set the <em>Word</em> down on the altar and raised her palms in the air. She threw back her head and began singing.</p><p>Her voice was throaty and rough, not suited for singing of any kind—but that was not the point of this hymn. The ardour that seeped from every pore of her body was enough to drew the people<em> in</em>, make them listen.</p><p>The High Priestess finished her song with a deep tone, and then, all fell silent.</p><p>The sounds of the crackling fire and the rustling of ancient pages were all that could be heard for several long moments, and then the Priestess began reading.</p><p>“First, there was nothing.”</p><p>She paused, and let the crowd drink in her words for a second.</p><p>“Then, out of that nothing, the Father arose, wandering aimlessly his world of Mortis. But soon, he grew irked with loneliness, so he took two strands out of his beard. One, he fashioned into the Mortal Realm, and populated it with beings, the other into the Realm of the Dead, where those beings go after they die.”</p><p>She threw her head back in pious ecstasy.</p><p>“And there was peace.”</p><p>Another pause.</p><p>“But this peace didn’t last long, for the mortals began waging wars between themselves. Seeing his beings slaughter each other broke the Father’s heart, and he began to cry.</p><p>“Two of his tears tumbled down to the ground. One formed into the Daughter, the other into the Son. Together, the Ones brought peace to the Mortal Realm. They divided the mortals into kingdoms, and created rulers for them out of their own blood. The descendants of those first kings and queens still rule us today.” She didn’t bother to acknowledge Padmé and her family, sitting in the first row, but the Princess still felt the eyes of the crowd on her.  </p><p>“But Father saw that Mortis wasn’t enough for his powerful children, so he made two other realms by mixing clay and their blood. The Daughter named her realm Ahch-To, the Son, Moraband.</p><p>“And there was peace.”</p><p>The Priestess stopped, brought her hands down, and looked the crowd with a face carved from stone. “That was the creation myth,” she said simply. “It tells us how the Five Realms came to be. It is the first story we tell our children before bed.”</p><p>She narrowed her blank white eyes. “It tells us of a world we do not know today. A world where there were no wars, no senseless slaughter, simply because the Ones would not let it happen.”</p><p>Her veiled head angled. “Yet the Great War came to be. The Son and the Daughter had learned too much from the mortals they were meant to be supervising, and they both angled for the Father’s power. To do that, they made themselves armies.</p><p>“The Gods, the Jedi, the Children of the Daughter. The Demons, the Sith, the Children of the Son." She chuckled, an eerie, humourless sound. “Call them what you will. In the end, they were made to be the tools of the lesser Ones.”</p><p>She gave them all a harpy’s smile.</p><p>“But not the Lord of Death.”</p><p>With that, she began reading anew.</p><p>“On the six hundredth year of the Great War, the Son and the Daughter came to Mortis, and fought the Father for dominion over all things.</p><p>“And as they fought, the Son pierced his Father’s heart with a bedrock blade, and the entire realm of Mortis collapsed, taking the Ones with it. But a single droplet of the Father’s golden blood found its way down to the Mortal Realm, and into the pure heart of a mortal woman in the Kingdom of Tatooine. And after nine months, the woman gave birth to a child who was One in all but name.”</p><p>Once again, the Priestess shut the book. “The tale continues,” she said. “It tells us of how the Sith found Vader and trained him in the arts of war, it tells us how he turned on them and brought victory to the Jedi.”</p><p>She gave them another serpent’s smile. “And it tells us, quite clearly, that the Lord of Death could single-handedly bring the Jedi down.”</p><p>She left the words hanging in the air for several seconds, then another litany of prayers began.</p><hr/><p>Barriss’s hand, skeletal and withered from her time spent captive in the plains of Moraband, gripped the jagged red rock tighter.</p><p>She climbed higher, even when it felt like her malnourished body would betray her, even when the sharp stone cut into her hands, even when her sleeves were soaked with her own, golden blood.</p><p>After what seemed to be hours, she reached the highest point of the cliff face, and heaved herself upwards, onto the flat top. She lay there for several minutes, letting the burning sun of Moraband warm her weary bones.</p><p>She had been a Light Spirit once, revered by the mortals, respected but the Jedi. Until she lost everything.</p><p>One way or another, she was determined to gain it all back. But for that, first she would need to escape this wretched realm.</p><p>She didn’t know if Moraband had always been a hellscape, or if the millennia the Sith had spent captive here had made it so. She only knew that in the last thousand years, since she had been thrown in here with nothing but the clothes on her back, stripped of her powers, nothing has changed.</p><p>But Barriss was clever. Cleverer, she’d come to believe in the past few centuries, than the Sith. So where they warred endlessly among each other, where they fought for the scraps this world had to offer—Barriss had searched.</p><p>And now, she was certain that she had found it. She grit her teeth together and forced herself to get up. On all fours, she crawled to the pond that rested like a dark jewel on the flat top of the cliff.</p><p>Except it was not a pond at all. The dark liquid pooled in the perfectly round hollow, completely opaque. Despite the arid wind that whipped at Barriss’s hair and clothes, there wasn’t a single ripple on the pond’s surface.</p><p>“HA!” Barriss screamed, even as the words grated at her dry throat. “HA!”</p><p>It was the Gate, the veil that separated Moraband and Mustafar.</p><p>And while the oh-so-powerful Sith had warred amongst each other, she had <em>found the way out</em>.</p><p>Slowly, Barris reached for the glassy surface … dipped one skeletal finger in…</p><p>Pain.</p><p>
  <em>Pain.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Pain as she had never known it shocked her body. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she heard a terrible, croaky laugh.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She screamed. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The laugh turned into a snarl, then something gripped her throat. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Silence, girl,” the voice said. “Focus, now, we don’t have much time.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Barriss’s only reply was a scream of agony that tore from her lips. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Silence, I said,” the voice growled. Barriss’s head cleared a bit, and she managed to make out its silhouette. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>It was a man, short, wearing billowing robes, and a deep hood.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Focus, girl,” he growled. “Break the Veil. You are a corrupted Spirit of the Light—but the Light still lives in you. Only you can do it.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“No …” Barriss tried, but the pain she felt doubled somehow, and she was left cold and shivering, alternating between the excruciating reality and the blissful embrace of unconsciousness. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Break. The. Veil.” </em>
</p><p><em>Barriss let out a cry of pain, but obeyed. She thrust her arms forward, imagined the Veil between Moraband and Mustafar. Then she imagined her consciousness spearing towards it, </em>piercing<em> it …</em></p><p>
  <em>“You have been of great help,” the man said mockingly. Barriss felt him let her go.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Then ... she dissipated.</em>
</p><hr/><p>Anakin felt it like a punch to the gut.</p><p>Actually, that was not quite correct. He had been punched in the gut many, many times during the Great War, and none of those felt quite this <em>wrong</em>.</p><p>It took him a while to place that feeling of wrongness. It hadn’t abated after the first blow, only intensified, until the darkness washed over him like a tidal wave.</p><p>“Moraband,” he whispered.</p><p>That realization was almost worse than the darkness itself, and Anakin leaped from his chair, raced out of the library, and tumbled down the stairs into his palace’s great hall in a display truly unbefitting the Lord of Death.</p><p>“Sire?” he heard a tentative voice behind him, and swirled towards it to see the calm face of his General.</p><p>“Rex,” he breathed. “Just the person … I need you to gather our armies. Take Vaneé with you.”</p><p>The General raised a brow. “Is there any reason we’re calling upon the banners?”</p><p>“Quite so,” Anakin said, and gathered his considerable power around him to punctuate the words. “The Veil has been broken.”</p><p>He did not wait around to see how Rex would take the news. With a flash of black light, he vanished from the great hall and reappeared at the edge of the Veil.</p><p>The circular pond’s waters were grey and stormy, nothing like the usual mirror-smooth blackness.</p><p>And there was a body carelessly thrown a few metres away from the water. Carefully, the hilt of his lightsaber firmly in his hand, Anakin bent over the corpse and turned it so he could see its face.</p><p>He stopped, and stared.</p><p>He knew that face.</p><p>Pale green skin, soiled with dirt and golden blood, a set of squares tattooed over her thin nose and sharp cheekbones, dark lips parted slightly, penetrating blue eyes staring at him emptily.</p><p>Barriss, to mortals known as Lady Offee.</p><p>The traitorous bitch who had nearly gotten Ahsoka locked up in Moraband for the rest of her immortal life.</p><p>And … she was a lifeless husk. She was<em> dead</em>.</p><p>Barriss had been a Spirit of the Light, as immortal as any of them. Golden ichor had coursed her veins.</p><p>How could she be dead?</p><p>“You are too late,” he heard a mocking voice and tore his eyes away from Barriss’s face, to scan his surroundings. It did not take him long to identify the cause of the disturbance.</p><p>A figure of a man loomed ahead, wearing a smooth, metallic mask. Angry wisps of ice-blond hair spiked from his scalp like a madman’s halo. The metallic hilt of his lightsaber was clenched in his fist.</p><p>“Hello, Momin,” Anakin said, rising to his full height. He wished he had his mask. It made things like this far easier. “It has been a while, has it not?” A plan began forming in his head.</p><p>“Vader,” the Sith spat. “Look at you, all polished and dressed up … so very different from the callow slave boy we had left behind.”</p><p>Anakin gave him a cocky grin. “Three millennia on the Throne of Mustafar will do that to a god,” he said casually, and began circling Momin. Not to be outdone, the Sith moved as well, until they were making an impromptu circle around Barriss’s corpse. Momin’s back was to the Veil, from where he’d presumably appeared, Anakin’s, to the smooth cliff face.</p><p>Momin looked at Barriss, splayed obscenely on the dry, reddish ground, limbs bent under unnatural angles, as thin as a wraith, filthy with sweat and dirt and blood.</p><p>Anakin did not pity her. He would never pity her. She deserved her lot in life. Had he not uncovered her schemes, it would’ve been Ahsoka laying here, immortal life stolen away.</p><p>“Foolish girl,” the Sith said, almost fondly, and drew Anakin back into the here and now. “She thought she could outsmart Lord Sidious … when, of course, he had been playing her the whole time.”</p><p>“I’m not surprised,” Anakin said, keeping his full attention on Momin. The Sith’s stance was relaxed, his saber hanging limply at his side. All too happy to chat. Good. Anakin could use that. “That bastard is far too clever for all Four Realms’ good. Of course he had been playing her.”</p><p>“Like he’d played you, you mean?”</p><p>“Careful,” the God of Death warned. “He who plays with fire is bound to be burned.”</p><p>“Are you calling yourself fire?” Momin asked, more amused than anything else.</p><p>“Oh, no,” Anakin said, allowing himself to relax a bit. “My good friend Ahsoka is fire. Me? I like to think of myself as death.”</p><p>“How charming,” Momin drawled. “One can really see you used to be one of us … a shame, really. You could have been <em>great</em>, Vader, the greatest of us all … if only you hadn’t thrown it all away!” he hissed scathingly. “And for what?”</p><p>“Thanks, I think I’ll pass,” Anakin spat, fighting to keep his temper in check.</p><p>“Impertinent little godling,” Momin scoffed. “You could have been so much<em> more</em>.”</p><p>“It has been three thousand years, Momin,” Anakin snorted. “I’m far from a godling. And if you are truly deluded enough to believe that I could have gotten anywhere with the Sith, that <em>you</em> can get anywhere with the Sith … I pity you. As if Sidious would ever let any of us have even a scrap of power at his expense.”</p><p>Momin let out a wordless snarl. His muscles tensed, but he didn’t leap to attack.</p><p><em>Not yet,</em> Anakin thought, <em>not yet</em>. He continued circling, carefully measuring his steps. “Tell me something, though,” He inclined his head towards Barriss. “How come she is dead? A Spirit of the Light? That should not be possible.”</p><p>Momin threw back his head and laughed. “While you and the rest of your precious Jedi—”</p><p>“Now that’s really unfair, I can only tolerate about two of them,” Anakin cut in smilingly. “Three on a good day.”</p><p>“<em>Do not </em>interrupt me, godling,” Momin growled. “While you ruled three of the realms from your golden thrones, Lord Sidious has worked tirelessly, delved deep, deep into dark magic, and discovered a weapon that would win us this war!”</p><p>This was bad. This was really, really bad.</p><p>“Oh?” he said, praying his voice would not quiver. “And here I thought I was the weapon that wins these things …”</p><p>“You,” Momin spat, “have become <em>obsolete.</em>”</p><p>“And let me guess,” Anakin cut in, “Sidious has taught this amazing new power to all of you.” He quirked his brow. “Do you even realize how stupid you sound?”</p><p>Momin straightened. “Lord Sidious is wise,” he spat. “He will teach us when he sees fit.”</p><p>“Yes, do keep telling yourself that,” Anakin said, rolling his eyes. “You are forgetting Momin, he had been my master. If anyone knows what is going on in that dark and rotten mind of his, I do. And trust me when I tell you … this will not end well for you.”</p><p>“What do you even know, filthy traitor?” Momin bellowed, pointing at Anakin with his free hand. “How dare you speak Lord Sidious’s name? How dare you try to twist me, like you have been twisted?!”</p><p>Anakin raised a brow at the vehemence of the Sith’s defense, but Momin was not done yet.</p><p>“You were his <em>apprentice</em>. You had <em>everything</em> … have you any idea how many of us would kill for that? And you. Threw. It. All. Away. And for what? <em>For what?!</em>” The Sith was actually shaking now.</p><p>Anakin took his last step, so that now he had his back to the Veil, and stopped, settling into a combat position.</p><p>“It’s simple,” he said. “But I doubt anyone as blinded by his own … frankly, <em>lacking,</em> power as you are would be able to understand.”</p><p>With a savage cry of rage, Momin leapt forward, bringing his now-lit saber down on Anakin in a crimson arc.</p><p>Anakin waited to the last millisecond, until he could feel the heat of Momin’s blade, to jump aside, and let the murky, stormy waters of the Veil swallow him.</p><p>Faster than moral eye could follow, he turned to the Veil and gathered his dark power around him, muttering incantations. Unbearably slowly, the liquid began calming, and when the black water started lapping at the land in lazy waves, Anakin allowed himself to relax, if only for a fraction.</p><p>Wrong choice. Barbed tentacles shot out of the Veil and wrapped themselves around his neck, his arms, his waist, cutting into his skin<em>.</em></p><p>Of course. There were monsters in Moraband, monsters that longed to be free just as much as the Sith, and the tentacles were not so much trying to pull him <em>in</em>, as pull themselves <em>out.</em></p><p>Anakin ground his teeth together and grabbed at the one wrapped around his neck, letting his dark power flow. Somewhere in the depths of the Veil, the monster shrieked, an inhuman sound of rage and pain.</p><p>Momentarily, the tentacles’ hold on him tightened, and then began sliding off, making sure the barbs cut <em>deep</em>. The sharpened tip of one caught at his brow, and <em>pulled</em>, leaving a long laceration on the right side of his face.</p><p>Still, he wouldn’t let his focus break. He continued chanting, and felt, more than saw, the Veil becoming stronger.</p><p>Finally, the surface of the pond became glassy and black again, and Anakin collapsed to the dry, russet-coloured earth, face to face with Barriss. The wounds the monster had given him did not close immediately, as they would have had he been wounded by a mortal weapon.</p><p>His eyelids felt heavy, his consciousness slipping from him.</p><p>It would be <em>so easy</em> to just close his eyes and …</p><p><em>Damn.</em> He jumped to his feet, ignoring the sharp stab of pain that went through his body. The Jedi needed to know … Momin had been but a distraction.</p><p>He clenched his fingers so tightly that his nails drew blood, and visualized Yoda’s palace on Ahch-To. The sensation of teleporting—like winds whipping at him from all sides overcame him, and he vanished from Mustafar—</p><p>Only to appear in mid-air, a hundred metres away from the fast approaching ground.</p><hr/><p>Most people’s favourite part of the Feast for Souls was the banquet after the Temple service. It had been Padmé’s as well, before, when she’d been but a careless little girl, the favourite of all courtiers.</p><p>But as she grew, she became drawn into the political games and intrigues. She enjoyed them at first—no-one could deny the younger Princess of Naboo was anything but politically savvy. She enjoyed them still, if she had to admit. There was something exhilarating about being cleverer than everyone in the room and knowing it.</p><p>But today, she couldn’t seem to find any enjoyment in the blatant bootlicking and two-faced comments. Especially since her <em>dearest</em> betrothed seemed to be a master of both.</p><p>She wasn’t <em>averse</em> to marrying him, per se, and she knew that her marriage would bring about an alliance between Scipio and Naboo that would last a thousand years. And being the Queen of Scipio wasn’t that bad—it was a nice land, even if it lacked Naboo’s culture and natural beauties.</p><p>It’s not like younger children of royal families ever married for love. The firstborns, like Sola, had that possibility, as small as it was, and she’d found her steadfast happiness with Darred.</p><p>But younger children were to be married off to the highest bidder to form and strengthen political alliances. Everyone knew that. As her mother liked very often to repeat, this match was made with her still in the cradle.</p><p>Her family and Prince Clovis were seated by a table placed on an elevated dais at the far end of the great hall. Foods and drinks flowed freely, the small quartet of players produced live music, conversation was lively.</p><p>Sitting next to her, her betrothed was rambling on and on about some insignificant matter, showing no signs he was going to finish any time soon.</p><p>“Excuse me, Your Highness,” Padmé said, giving him a smile not many would realize was false, “but I’m feeling unwell. I shall go get some fresh air in the gardens.”</p><p>“Oh,” Prince Clovis said, straightening. Padmé had to restrain herself from snorting. Did she hurt his poor, fragile ego? “Would you like me to accompany you, Princess?”</p><p>“There is no need for that, Your Highness,” Padmé said, fingering the embroidered hem of her skirt. “I grew up here. I know the gardens like I know the back of my hand—better, even.”</p><p>“Still,” Prince Clovis said eyes darting around the hall. “It’s the night of the Feast for Souls, Highness,” his voice dropped to a hushed, scared whisper. “Mortals ought not to wander on the night of the Death Lord’s holiday.”</p><p>Padmé raised an unimpressed brow. “And are you volunteering to wander with me, Prince?”</p><p>Prince Clovis narrowed his eyes. “I would prefer it if neither of us wandered, Your Highness. You will forgive that I, as your husband, believe your protection is my duty.”</p><p>“Except you are not my husband yet, are you?” Padmé said, smiling sweetly. “I would prefer our marriage to be devoid of such things, but since I have to, I shall have to evoke <em>my </em>authority as the Princess of this land.”</p><p>Prince Clovis’s skin paled and his nostrils widened. “Forgive me, Your Highness,” he ground out. “I only meant to look after your best interest.”</p><p>Padmé allowed herself a smile. “There is no cause for worry, Prince, I’m certain the Lord of Death has better things to do on the Feast for Souls than to stalk the Theed Palace gardens.”</p><p>“Of course, Princess,” Clovis said, giving her a stray smile. “Enjoy your walk.”</p><p>“Oh, I intend to,” Padmé promised. With that, she picked up her skirts and made her way outside.</p><p>The palace gardens were a masterpiece, carefully grown and tended to by the finest masters of the craft in all of Naboo, but tonight, Padmé was not here to admire the flower beds and modelled hedges.</p><p>She paused before a trickling marble fountain, pressed her palms to the damp edge of its pool, and closed her eyes, letting the cool night breeze sway her curls, carefully arranged in complex bun at the top of her head.</p><p>She focused on the sound of the trickling water, and the more distant thundering of the waterfalls that dropped from the cliff on which the Theed Royal Palace and the nobility’s manors were situated.</p><p>The city beneath was uncharacteristically quiet. Today, of all days, there was no soul to be seen wandering the streets, no street vendor shouting out, no beggar pleading in the streets, no factory or shop bustling with activity.</p><p>Today, even the poorest gathered what little they had, and celebrated in their own modest way.</p><p>Padmé languished in this rare moment of peace, the absolute stillness all around her.</p><p>Until that stillness was interrupted, in the shape of <em>something</em> heavy and dark slamming into the ground, a few metres away, and she leaped back out of sheer shock.</p><p>She heard a tide of muffled curses, most of them in languages she didn’t recognize, and then the dark shape shakily got up.</p><p>Padmé gripped the dagger safely tucked away in her corset and watched in amazement as the human man, with something dark she suspected was blood smeared all over his face, looked around with glassy eyes.</p><p>“This …” he said uncertainly, “this is not Ahch-To …” he turned to her. “Right?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. II: The Man Who Fell From the Sky</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Remember, children: it's not kidnapping if it's consensual!</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you so much to everyone who left comments on the last chapter, you guys are wonderful!!!<br/>I hope you enjoy!!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>II</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>The Man Who Fell From the Sky</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Padmé stared at the man. She couldn’t see his features very well in the darkness, or make out anything more than a vague outline.</p><p>“Who are you?” she demanded.</p><p>He blinked, looking a bit dazed. “My name is Anakin,” he said uncertainly, as if that clarified anything. “And … this does not bear much resemblance to Yoda’s Palace, and therefore I conclude I ended up in the wrong place.”</p><p>“You dropped from the sky!” Padmé screamed, near-hysterical. “What the in the Father’s name!?”</p><p>“Sorry,” he offered sheepishly. “I … I messed up.”</p><p>“Messed up <em>what</em>?!”</p><p>He sighed, and immediately winced, one hand going up to cradle a large bloodstain under his ribs, where Padmé concluded he must have been wounded. “I tried to teleport to Ahch-To, but I messed up and ended here instead. Speaking of that, where is<em> here</em> exactly?”</p><p>Padmé felt blood drain out of her face. <em>Teleport</em>. She cast a glance to his face. It was indeed covered in blood, sprouting from a long gash over his right eye … but it was all wrong, too shiny, too-light in colour. Chills ran down her spine when she realized that was because … it wasn’t red at all.</p><p>It was gold. The golden blood of immortals.</p><p>“You’re in Naboo,” she said quickly, trying to get her head around the fact that she had just <em>yelled at an immortal</em>. “Theed, the Royal Palace, the Palace gardens, to be more precise.”</p><p>The immortal—Anakin—blinked. “Well,” he said, wincing again, “there is a lesson to be learned here.” Despite the blood on his face, he gave her a sheepish smile. “I ought not teleport  when I’ve lost so much blood.”</p><p>“I see,” Padmé said, a bit faint. “I will make sure I memorize it.”</p><p>“Well … I’ll be on my way now. It was a pleasure to meet you, my lady,” Anakin said.</p><p>“Wait!” she snapped. “Look, I care not who you are, you can’t just drop out of the sky, into my mother’s peonies, then vanish without a trace!”</p><p>Instead of stiffening and obliterating her in a fit of rage, as she had predicted he would, Anakin cocked his head, and gave her a considering look.</p><p>“What is your name?” he asked finally, strangely soft.</p><p>She blinked. She hadn’t expected that. “Padmé. Padmé Naberrie.”</p><p>“Naberrie?” he echoed. “As in … the reigning family of Naboo?”</p><p>Padmé drew herself upwards, squaring her shoulders and raising her chin. “That is correct.”</p><p>“I <em>know</em> you.”</p><p><em>That</em> caught her off guard. “What do you mean, you know me?” she demanded, but Anakin wasn’t looking at her. Or at least his attention wasn’t on her. He seemed to be debating something.</p><p>Finally, he took a deep breath, and extended one blood-stained hand.</p><p>“Come with me.”</p><p>“What?!”</p><p>He paused, a conflict raging in his eyes still.</p><p>“I’ve heard your prayers,” he said finally, hushed, drawing his hands closer to himself. His tone was soft, earnest. “You are so very alone … even when you’re surrounded by family, by your people … you are alone. And you don’t let anyone see it, for Father’s sake, you don’t let yourself <em>feel</em> it most of the time.” he paused, looking for the right words. “But when you’re in my temple … you let go. You share your troubles and doubts with me … you never <em>ask</em> for help, because you feel it’s your duty to endure it all, yet …”</p><p>Padmé stared at him in horror. Here they were, her deepest secrets and doubts … plain as day.</p><p>“But I’ve felt,” he continued, “how it destroys you. I’ve felt it today, more strongly than ever.”</p><p>Today. The Feast for Souls.</p><p>“You’re Vader,” she breathed, and let out a hysterical laugh. “You know, my betrothed warned me not to go out tonight. And do you know what I told him?!”</p><p>“No,” he whispered, scrounging up his brow. But then again, she supposed <em>her</em> reaction wasn’t exactly what one would expect.</p><p>“I told him …” she laughed again. “I told him that the Lord of Death has better things to do than prowl our gardens!”</p><p>An—<em>Vader</em> looked at her with wide, confused eyes. “I don’t usually,” he offered, and bit his lip. “But … you can come with me,” he whispered. “Leave this place … it’s suffocating you.”</p><p>Padmé felt something building up in her chest. She grabbed at the skirts of her gown, and curled her hands into fists.</p><p>Perhaps it was the glass of wine she had had to drink when her father made a toast, perhaps it was Prince Clovis being more annoying, her mother being more overbearing than usual … perhaps it was this whole Father-forsaken <em>day </em>… but it wasn’t much of a decision at all.</p><p>Casting one last look at her ancestral home, Padmé took a deep breath, and took Anakin’s hand.</p><hr/><p>Teleporting was a strange sensation, the Princess found out. It felt like angry wind was whipping at her from all sides. Despite the fact that it only lasted for a few seconds, Padmé clung to Anakin, a scream frozen in her throat.</p><p>She felt their drop back into reality keenly, and opened her eyes. They found themselves in a huge, open hall of a white marble palace situated at the top of a mountain.</p><p>“Are you all right?” Anakin asked tentatively, and Padmé realized she was still holding onto him.</p><p>“That …” she said, letting go of his dark waistcoat, “was something else.”</p><p>She heard him chuckle, and looked up to meet his gaze. Floating orbs of white light illuminated the hall, bright against the dark sky, and she could finally take a good look at him.</p><p>He was lean, and taller than her, so much that she had to crane her neck to meet his eyes—deep, intense blue, sitting on a tanned, handsome (if drenched with blood) face. His hair was golden and wavy, reaching down to his chin.</p><p>And he was … young. Or at least, he looked young. If he were mortal, Padmé wouldn’t have given him a day over twenty.</p><p>“At least we didn’t drop a hundred metres up in the air,” she offered. “I don’t think my frail mortal body would have endured.”</p><p>His full lips curved into a sheepish smile that Padmé couldn’t help but return. “Yeah. Lucky us.”</p><p>“Am I interrupting something?” a high, sarcastic voice came from somewhere above them, and Padmé followed it to a grand stairwell at whose top waited a young Togruta girl, wearing a heavy red velvet gown with golden accents. A crown embedded with scarlet gems sat upon her brow, where montrals met flesh.</p><p>Her full, dark lips were quirked.</p><p>“Ahsoka,” Anakin groaned, with the ease that suggested practice.</p><p>“<em>You</em> are sounding awfully impolite for someone who is trespassing in <em>my </em>palace,” the girl, Ahsoka, said, marching down the stars. There was a mischievous gleam in her blue eyes, and Padmé couldn’t help but note her athletic build. Even dressed in finery, there was no argument that she was a warrior.</p><p>“That wasn’t my intention,” Anakin muttered.</p><p>“Are you covered in blood?!” Ahsoka demanded once she got close enough to actually see. “And is that … a mortal?!”</p><p>“Thanks, I haven’t noticed,” Anakin snapped. The effort was a bit too much in his weakened state, and Padmé grasped his forearms to help keep him up.</p><p>Ahsoka narrowed her eyes. “And <em>why</em>, may I ask, are you covered in blood?”</p><p>“Take a guess,” he said, though his face was paling quickly.</p><p>“Perhaps you should lay down before you faint,” Padmé told him.</p><p>The other two ignored her.</p><p>“You fell down a flight of stairs?” Ahsoka tried. “How in the Father’s name am I supposed to know?”</p><p>“You …” Anakin squinted at her, expression calculating. “You really don’t know? You haven’t felt it?”</p><p>“Felt <em>what</em>?” Ahsoka said, throwing her hands up in exasperation. Padmé was growing curious as well.</p><p>Anakin looked at them both for several long moments with wide eyes, before whispering one single, soft, barely audible word.</p><p>“Moraband.”</p><p>There was a long, pregnant pause, and then hell broke loose, in the form of Ahsoka screaming, “WHAT? You mean … you mean to tell me that … that the Veil is broken?!”</p><p>Padmé felt her eyes widen in realization.</p><p>“The Sith are free?” she whispered, looking up at Anakin for confirmation.</p><p>He nodded, lips tight. “You really …” he told Ahsoka, clutching at the wound on his ribs. “You haven’t felt it? Sensed it?”</p><p>Ahsoka shook her head, then closed her blue eyes. When she opened them, a strange sort of calculating cool fell over her face. “We need to get you to a healer,” she said tightly.</p><p>Padmé nodded.</p><p>As if summoned by a thought, a servant dressed in red robes appeared and bowed before them. “Lady Fulcrum,” the woman said.</p><p>“Fulcrum,” Padmé echoed softly. “The Lady of Fire?”</p><p>“Get Lord Vader to the healer’s ward,” the goddess instructed. “And summon me my war council.”</p><p>“Yes, my lady,” the servant replied. She extended a hand to Anakin, who gripped it with shaky hands and let himself be taken away, casting one last glance at Padmé.</p><p>“Well then,” Ahsoka—<em>Fulcrum</em> said, crossing her arms. “Come on.” She began walking towards a towering, carved wooden door, and into the opulent hallway through.</p><p>“Will he be all right?” Padmé asked, frowning.</p><p>“Oh yes, he’s just stubborn.” She cocked her head. “You look familiar. What are you called?”</p><p>“Padmé Naberrie, my lady,” Padmé replied.</p><p>Despite the seriousness of the situation, Ahsoka grinned. “I know you! Your sacrifices are always amazing!”</p><p>“I … thank you, my lady,” Padmé tried, unable to keep her confusion completely out of her voice.</p><p>“Call me Ahsoka,” the goddess said, excitement apparent in her voice and body language. “So, how in Father’s name did you end up here with Anakin?”</p><p>“Well,” Padmé began, “I went to have a walk in my palace’s garden and breathe in some fresh air, when he appeared out of thin air several hundred meters up in the air and crashed into my mother’s prized flowers.”</p><p>“That sounds like him,” Ahsoka said, nodding sagely.</p><p>Padmé chuckled. “Anyway, I yelled at the God of Death for a little bit, and instead of smiting me where I stood, he invited me to come with him.” She shrugged. “It was better than the alternative.”</p><p>“And what would the alternative be?” Ahsoka asked, white marking on her brow scrounged up.</p><p>Padmé scoffed. “Marrying Prince Clovis of Scipio. Spending the rest of my life in a foreign land. Dying there.”</p><p>“Ah, the Naberrie-Clovis match. I remember it well,” Ahsoka said. “Would you not became the Queen of Scipio by marrying him?”</p><p>“There are things far more valuable than a throne,” Padmé replied. “Where are we going?”</p><p>Ahsoka clapped her hands. “My war room! Ha! And Anakin made fun of me when I had it built!”</p><p>“Because you were born after the Great War,” Padmé, said, trying to recall the legends.</p><p>“Yeah. Someone’s been listening to my priests, it seems.” She smiled wickedly. “But who’s laughing now? Ha!”</p><p>“You two are close?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Ahsoka confirmed. “The rest of the Jedi don’t like it much, but we don’t really care.” She shrugged. “I was sent to live with him in Mustafar when I was fourteen, and we have been best friends ever since, even after I reached five hundred—” she paused, and frowned. “Erm … that would be the age of majority for us,” she explained.</p><p>“I see. But why would they send you to Mustafar, though?” Padmé wondered.</p><p>Ahsoka made a face. “Politics, if I had to guess. Something like a peace offering to Anakin: we trust you enough to give you one of our kids, please don’t abuse that trust and kill us all.”</p><p>“You mean like a bargaining chip?” Padmé demanded. “And you’re all right with that?”</p><p>“Well, I didn’t have much of a choice back then, did I?” Ahsoka sighed. “Yoda says jump, the Jedi ask how high. My friendship with Anakin—it’s kind of a slap to the face for them, and a bit of revenge for me. No-one thought I was going to be an actual goddess when I was born—they thought they were giving up a mere Spirit of the Light. But when I turned five hundred, and my powers reached their zenith …” she grinned in a distinctly predatory way. “Let’s just say that some of them were <em>very</em> uncomfortable having a fully-fledged goddess who grew up in Mustafar, under the direct influence of <em>Vader</em> of all people.”</p><p>“You are far less united than the stories make you out to be,” Padmé decided.</p><p>Ahsoka chuckled. “Really, it’s just Anakin and I who are outliers. Well … Obi-Wan joins us sometimes, but mostly, we just give him premature grey hairs.”</p><p>“Obi-Wan?”</p><p>She considered. “I suppose you’d know him as Ben.”</p><p>“You … you give the Lord of Justice premature grey hairs,” Padmé repeated. “How lovely.”</p><p>The Lady of Fire grinned, and paused before a tall, intricately carved doors. They opened of their own volition before her, and she stepped inside, Padmé following.</p><p>Ahsoka’s war room was a beautiful, opulent space, open to the elements yet protected by magic. In the middle of it perched a round table around which a group of people was assembled, headed by a grizzled-looking Faleen man, bent over a map of what Padmé recognized to be the Mortal Realm. She could even pinpoint Naboo on it.</p><p>A murmur went through the assembled councillors when they appeared.</p><p>“Lady Fulcrum,” the man at the head said. “You called for us.”</p><p>“That is correct, general,” Ahsoka replied. “I received a surprise visit less than half an hour ago. A visit from Lord Vader.” She looked each of them in the eye. “He saw fit to inform me that the Veil had been broken, which, when condensed, basically means that the way if life we’ve known our entire lives is gone.”</p><p><em>Well</em>, Padmé thought<em>, that was quick.</em></p><p>The councillors must’ve been used to Ahsoka’s way of work, because they simply nodded while their lady dropped the next truth.</p><p>“The High Council hasn’t been made aware.”</p><p>Another one of the councillors, a Nautolan woman, cocked her head. “How so?”</p><p>“They will be,” Ahsoka said, raising a placating hand. “In the meanwhile, I want my troops prepared and ready to march. We don’t know what game the Sith might be playing.”</p><p>She focused her gaze upon a lithe, red-skinned Twi’lek. “Elaenorra,” she began. “I want your spies in every realm, every kingdom, every court.”</p><p>“Yes, Lady Fulcrum,” Elaenorra, the spymaster, if Padmé had to guess, said, bowing her head. “It will be done.”</p><p>“Very good.” She sighed. “There’s not much to say,” she admitted. “We can only prepare.”</p><p>An affirmative murmur went through the council.</p><p>Padmé noticed eyes on her and raised her head to meet the gaze of the weathered Faleen general, challenging him.</p><p>“Lady Fulcrum, if I may, why is there a mortal woman here?”</p><p>Padmé’s many years in court training allowed her to keep her composure, but Ahsoka bristled.</p><p>“Princess Naberrie,” she said, voice tight, “is here as my guest. You should do well to show her the respect that her station requires, General.”</p><p>The General cast his gaze to Padmé one more time, calculating, then he executed a sweeping bow. “Your Highness.”</p><p>“General,” Padmé replied haughtily.</p><p>“Good,” Ahsoka interrupted, snapping her hands. “Off you go then. Lots of work to do.”</p><p>One by one, the councillors all vanished.</p><p>“That was rather quick,” Padmé noted.</p><p>Ahsoka chuckled. “I guess I value practicality. There’s no pointing in standing on ceremony.”</p><p>“You also seem awfully giddy for someone who’s just learned that the ancient demons have returned,” she continued, smiling faintly.</p><p>“<em>You’re</em> awfully calm for someone who escaped her home and is now hanging out with the goddess of fire,” Ahsoka shot back.</p><p>“I guess I’m still shocked.”</p><p>“I guess I am too. When it all comes crashing down on us, we can go hysteric together,” Ahsoka suggested.</p><p>“Wonderful. It’s a deal.”</p><p>The goddess treated her to a brilliant, fanged smile, before shaking her head, and declaring, “Anakin must be well by now.”</p><p>Padmé felt her brows rise up to her hairline. “So soon?”</p><p>“We heal faster than mortals,” Ahsoka said quickly, squirming under Padmé’s gaze. “Anyway, we should go see him before he goes stir-crazy and frightens all my healers with his King-of-Mustafar voice.”</p><p>“I confess I have yet to hear such a voice,” Padmé admitted. “But all right.”</p><p>Ahsoka led her through another set of hallways, to a rather small, but open, chamber, set with a single examination table and several glass cabinets filled with various medical devices Padmé could only guess at the purpose of. She supposed there was no reason to have a whole healers’ wing when most of the inhabitants of this palace were immortal.</p><p>True to Ahsoka’s prediction, Anakin was pacing the small space like a caged animal. His coat was off, leaving him down to a shirt, breeches and a waistcoat—all in black.</p><p>He snapped his head to them when they arrived, and Padmé noticed the long, vicious scar that now marred the right side of his face.</p><p>He gave her a goofy grin, one that she couldn’t help but return.</p><p>Somewhere next to her, Ahsoka coughed pointedly.</p><p>Anakin shook his head. “Snips,” he said, which Padmé assumed to be an affectionate nickname, full lips curved into a teasing smile, “I take it you’ve finally found a use for that war room of yours?”</p><p>“Hey!” The Lady of Fire stepped forward, wiggling a manicured fingernail in the face of the Lord of Death. “Don’t you diss my war room! I’ve been to yours, and it <em>sucks.</em> No decorations whatsoever!”</p><p>“Because it’s a <em>war</em> room, it’s meant to be practical,” Anakin said, crossing his arms over his chest.</p><p>“Ladies, ladies,” Padmé interrupted, throwing up her hands. “You’re both beautiful. Now, may we please return to the matter of<em> the Sith have returned</em>?”</p><p>Both gods’ expressions hardened.</p><p>“We need to speak with the High Council,” Anakin said at last. “If <em>you</em>, who has spent half a millennia in Mustafar, haven’t sensed the Veil breaking down, Snips, chances are, neither have any of them.” He paused, and then his eyes widened.</p><p>“I … I saw Barriss,” he told Ahsoka, who paled. “Offee,” he added, with a nod in Padmé’s direction.</p><p>She understood. Offee had been a Spirit of the Light, much admired by all who knew her. The story went that one day, during a ball in Lord Yoda’s palace, a number of Spirits of the Dark had been unleashed. An investigation was launched, and all clues pointed towards Lady Fulcrum—<em>Ahsoka.</em> She was very nearly cast out into the plains of Moraband. Only Lord Vader believed her to be innocent, and managed to find the real culprit—Offee.</p><p>Padmé had always wondered why the seemingly cold Lord of Death took such pains to save a young goddess. Now, looking at Anakin and Ahsoka bicker like siblings, and knowing their shared history … she supposed she had her answer.</p><p>Anakin waited a moment for Ahsoka to calm before delivering the next piece of information.</p><p>“She was dead.”</p><p>Padmé wasn’t so shocked, but Ahsoka’s reaction was turbulent—her orange skin blanched away to a pale peach colour, blue eyes widening. “What?” she hissed.</p><p>And then Padmé realized: they were immortals. Offee—Barriss—was an immortal as well.</p><p>“How is that possible?” she whispered.</p><p>“I duelled Momin,” Anakin continued, mentioning yet another name from the legends and tales of Padmé’s childhood. “He is safely locked up in Moraband again, do not worry about that, but he said …” he paused, biting his lip, “he said that Sidious has found a way to kill us. Gods.”</p><p>“By the Ones,” Ahsoka whispered, hands coming up to embrace herself.</p><p>“It’s imperative that we speak to the High Council as soon as possible,” Anakin concluded.</p><p>“I’ll send Morai to deliver the message to Obi-Wan,” Ahsoka suggested, naming her legendary convor companion, born from the Daughter’s tears at the sight of her Jedi being slaughtered in the Great War. “You can send Vaneé to Yoda—I’m sure they’ll take you more seriously than me.”</p><p>“Vaneé?” Padmé asked, casting a quick glance to Anakin.</p><p>His brow shot up. “He’s a friend—a crow that I—”</p><p>“A crow?” Padmé interrupted. “<em>The</em> Crow?” She was feeling strangely giddy.</p><p>The Lord of Death nodded.</p><p>“That was my favourite story as a child,” Padmé admitted, “I’ve never heard the Crow’s name mentioned before, though.”</p><p>Anakin gave her a beaming smile. “I’ll introduce you, then. But,” he continued, looking back at Ahsoka, “I’ve sent him to help gather my armies with General Rex.”</p><p> “So Morai goes to Yoda, then,” Ahsoka sighed. “I don’t like this, Anakin. Any of this.”</p><p>“I would be more worried if you did, Snips,” the Lord of Death said wearily, allowing himself to sit on the examination table behind his back. “War is no game.”</p><p>For the first time, Padmé noticed the dark circles carved into the skin beneath his eyes. He ran a hand through his hair. “I take it you’ve got preparations to make?”</p><p>Ahsoka nodded, biting her lip. “I want my people as safe as can be. Any advice on how to accomplish that?”</p><p>Anakin made a face. “Have them prepare—gather food, water, and other essentials, gather <em>weapons</em>, and teach themselves how to use them.” He frowned. “What’s the state of your armies?”</p><p>“Most of them have never seen real battle,” Ahsoka replied uneasily. “But most of my officers have been alive for the Great War, so … there’s that.”</p><p>Anakin nodded. “You’ll do great. You always do.”</p><p>The goddess nodded, then sprung forward and embraced him. “Promise me you won’t do anything stupid?”</p><p>“Have you met me?” he demanded, returning the hug. “Obi-Wan once told me it’s stupid that runs in my veins instead of ichor.”</p><p>“Obi-Wan talks too much,” Ahsoka replied readily, and let him go. Then, to Padmé’s great surprise, she turned gave her a hug as well. “Do take care of this idiot, will you, Princess?”</p><p>In the background, she registered Anakin’s protest, but she ignored it. Readily embracing Ahsoka back, she agreed.</p><p>“And good luck,” she added, as soon as Ahsoka let go and started making her way towards the door.</p><p>The goddess looked down, eyes uncertain. She took a deep breath, steeled herself, and gave them a smile that almost reached her eyes. “The Sith will not know what happened to them.”</p><p>“We can only hope,” Padmé replied.</p><p>With one last sweep of her azure gaze over the room, Ahsoka disappeared behind the door.</p><p>“She’s a good kid,” Padmé decided. “I mean … I know she’s <em>a lot</em> older than I am, but she doesn’t … doesn’t feel like that, I guess.”</p><p>She turned to Anakin, who was playing with the hem of his sleeve. “The Jedi and the Sith age different than humans,” he explained. “Not two are the same. We age normally until some point, and then suddenly—we don’t.” He shrugged. “And since that can be anywhere between fifteen and five hundred, depending on one’s species …”</p><p>“Five hundred,” she said, brows shooting up.</p><p>He shrugged again. “Yoda was four hundred and something when <em>he</em> stopped aging … but mortals of his species can live for a millennia.</p><p>“Anyway, that’s why they picked five hundred as the age of majority. But I suppose that Snips <em>would</em> be younger than you in mortal years.”</p><p>“And what about you?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest and taking several steps closer.</p><p>His cheeks flushed crimson. “Nineteen? Twenty? I don’t know.”</p><p>She smiled delightedly.</p><p>“I’m over three thousand years old,” he protested.</p><p>“If you say so,” she replied, still smiling. His words sounded far too defensive.</p><p>He chuckled. “Still haven’t changed your mind?”</p><p>“What, about coming here? No. I’m afraid you will have to put up with me for a little longer.”</p><p>“I wouldn’t call it <em>putting up</em>. But, I mean …” he squirmed uncomfortably. “You didn’t know there would be a war on when you agreed to come with me, and I’d lost far too much blood to even think straight.”</p><p>She squared her shoulders. “Are you saying you don’t want me here?”</p><p>“NO!” he said quickly. “I just … I want to make sure it’s what <em>you</em> want.”</p><p>“Oh,” she said relaxing. “Don’t worry then.” She paused. “If the world is ending, I would much rather be able to watch from the first rows than hide in the crevices of my family’s palace while others die for me.”</p><p>He gave her a beaming smile. “We’ll try to make it so that it doesn’t come to that.”</p><p>“I expected nothing less.”</p><p>His smile turned melancholic, and he looked down. “It’s just … I had lived through one war … I had hoped it would be the last.”</p><p>“Makes sense,” Padmé said, nodding. “I had never thought I would live through <em>any</em>, much less an immortal one.” She moved to sit next to him.</p><p>“It would seem life has a way of surprising us,” he said, laughing without mirth.</p><p>“So, what now?” she wondered.</p><p>“We wait for Ahsoka to send her message, and the High Council to decide when to convene. We present our case, and hope, against all hope, that they actually agree to do something.”</p><p>“Against all hope?” she repeated. “They are the High Council!”</p><p>He sighed in frustration. “In the High Council, only Yoda and Windu have any real say. Everyone else goes along with them. But convincing the two of them that something is amiss when they haven’t sensed it … that will be a difficult task. Impossible.”</p><p>“Let’s hope we succeed, then,” she said, frowning. “You … <em>gods in general</em> … are much more <em>complicated</em> than the stories make you out to be.”</p><p>“Is that a bad thing?”</p><p>She considered. “No … it means I’ve signed up to live my life among actual, real <em>people</em>, even if they are in possession of eternal life. It’s a very good thing.”</p><p>“You … you haven’t <em>signed up</em> for anything …” Anakin said, biting his lip, “say the word, and I’ll take you back.”</p><p>“I thought we were over this,” Padmé admonished. “I am not going anywhere.”</p><p>“I meant …” he shook his head. “By the Father, words are hard. What I meant was … keep in mind. You can leave at any time.”</p><p>“I appreciate that,” Padmé said. “Let’s leave it at that, all right?”</p><p>He nodded. “Just … I wanted you to know.”</p><p>Padmé cocked her head, and wet her lips. “You know … you are the most unexpected thing here.”</p><p>He curved a brow. “Me? How so? You are literally in Ahch-To, a place no mortal has visited in over three thousand years, you have just met Fulcrum and found out that she’s, from a certain point of view, younger than you, you are about to meet the Jedi High Council, you found out that the ancient boogeymen of the myths and the legends <em>have come back to wage war</em> … yet <em>I</em> am the most unexpected thing there is?”</p><p>“You are selling yourself short, Anakin,” she said, “here stands the Lord of Death before me. The most mysterious and powerful of the Jedi, the one whose name, or the name if his kingdom, is so rarely spoken out of <em>sheer</em> fear the mortals have of you … yet here you are, getting teased by Ahsoka and being … dare I say it … nice.”</p><p>“Aaaaw … you think I’m nice?”</p><p>“Maybe. Don’t let it get into your head, though.”</p><p>He chuckled. “The Jedi won’t know what happened to them when faced with you.”</p><p>“I look forward to surprising them, then,” she retorted. “If they are really as bad as you make them out to be …”</p><p>“They’re not all bad,” he corrected. “Obi-Wan—Ben, that is—”</p><p>“Yes, Ahsoka told me all about that, Grey hairs, huh?”</p><p>“It’s not our fault we latched onto him!” He chuckled. “I can’t wait for the two of you to meet.” Then he frowned. “Though I’m decidedly<em> not</em> looking forward to the lecture that is sure to follow. <em>‘Anakin what were you thinking to bring a mortal Princess here? Oh, that’s right. You weren’t!’</em> I’ll never hear the end of this.”</p><p>“Huh,” Padmé said. “Ought I to leave, then?”</p><p>“No, who cares what Obi-Wan thinks … he’s never had an idea in his head that the High Council didn’t put there first …” he sighed. “He’ll come around.”</p><p>“I see. And who else on the High Council is tolerable?” she asked.</p><p>“Hmmm … let’s see. Plo … Koon, that is. He took care of Ahsoka when she was a kid, before they sent her to me.”</p><p>“Yeah … she told me about that. I mean … I’m glad the two of you are friends, but that was a bastardly move,” Padmé said, playing with a curl that had escaped her bun.</p><p>Anakin barked a laugh. “We are in agreement, then. I remember when I first saw her … only fourteen, and tiny, and scared.” He frowned. “Scared of me, mostly. I still don’t know what they told her to make her so frightened.”</p><p>“But at least you found each other,” she surmised. “Ahsoka tells me that was not something the Jedi expected.”</p><p>“Oh, no,” Anakin said. “I think over a half of the High Council wanted her as a spy in my court, they just never said it outright. But it’s always been Ahsoka and me versus the world. And Obi-Wan, of course.”</p><p>“What about your crow? The stories make you out to be best friends,” she wondered.</p><p>Anakin snorted. “Vaneé’s a given … Rex, also … he’s my general,” he added, when he saw the look of confusion on Padmé’s face.</p><p>“I can’t wait to meet him,” she said sincerely.</p><p>“You should … Rex is amazing,” Anakin replied, eyes wide. “He is a powerful Spirit of the Light, a veteran of the Great War. He even forgave me for tossing him off an exploding wall in the Second Battle of Coruscant.”</p><p>“Okay, okay, backtrack for a moment,” she said, raising a hand. “You tossed a man off an exploding wall.”</p><p>Anakin just rolled his eyes. “He’s immortal, it’s not like it would hurt him. And besides, I caught him before he hit the ground. All’s well that ends well, and all that.”</p><p>“Well, I would like to ask you to refrain from doing the same to me, as I am not, in fact, immortal,” she said, <em>very seriously</em>, definitely not supressing giggles.</p><p>“Consider it done,” Anakin replied, bowing swiftly and clumsily. “My lady.”</p><p>“I’m a princess, Lord Vader, not a noblewoman,” she teased, then frowned. “Am I still a princess even if I literally ran away from my kingdom?”</p><p>Anakin wrong his hands together nervously. “You can always go back. Maybe they’ve figured out your absence by now, but we can easily explain it away.”</p><p>“I’m not leaving,” she said stubbornly. “I will probably have to visit and explain my deeds at some point, but … I honestly don’t have the strength to do that now.” She remembered Prince Clovis. “Maybe never.”</p><p>“Just say when,” he promised.</p><p>“Thank you,” she whispered. “I can’t help but wonder what Rush’s reaction will be … I’ve been engaged to him since I was born.”</p><p>“Rush … Rush Clovis, the Prince of Scipio?”</p><p>She nodded.</p><p>“I’ve never liked him,” Anakin said. “Too arrogant. I don’t think he ever came to any of my temples on an ordinary day, and even on the Feast for Souls, his prayers are always selfish.”</p><p>“Should I be disturbed by the fact that you are apparently able to remember every single person’s prayers?” she teased. “Because I pray a lot.”</p><p>“Isn’t that my job?” Anakin replied absently. “I’d make a lousy god if I didn’t listen to prayers.”</p><p>Ahsoka chose that moment to burst into the room. Her apparel had changed—she’d replaced the beautiful scarlet gown with a warrior’s attire, twin lightsabers hanging from her belt.</p><p>“Morai has returned with Yoda’s answer,” she said, breathless.</p><p>“Well then,” Anakin huffed, taking his coat and throwing it over his elbow, “we better go.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. III: The High Council</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Padme is unleashed upon the poor, unsuspecting Jedi ...</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you to all who commented, y'all are the best.<br/>There was something immensely satisfying about both writing and editing this bit, hehe. </p><p>Enjoy!!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>III</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>The High Council</strong>
</p><p>Padmé was rather pleased that she was already clad in all her finery, because meeting the Jedi High Council was stressful enough as it is, and she did not want to imagine how much worse it would be if she was unable to present herself to them in her best edition.</p><p>Briefly, she amused herself with the idea of standing before the most powerful and the wisest of the Jedi in her nightgown.</p><p>Anakin, apparently, did not have such qualms, a determined look to his eyes, lips cutting a thin, sharp line across his face. His clothes were damaged in places, and stained with his own, golden blood, but he did not seem to care.</p><p>They marched the halls of Ahsoka’s palace until they arrived before a carriage driven by massive winged horses. The Duros driver tipped his hat at the sight of them.</p><p>Padmé had never encountered a winged horse before, but today was already too full of strange things for her to manage even a crumpet of shock or surprise.</p><p>One of Ahsoka’s footmen opened the carriage door and escorted them inside. Padmé felt it jerk when the horses left the ground, and watched in fascination as the mountainside palace became smaller and smaller.</p><p>“One question,” she told the two gods. “Not that I do not appreciate being flown in a carriage, but why are we not teleporting? Is time not of the essence?”</p><p>Ahsoka made a face. “It is considered … impolite to teleport into a god’s home.” She quirked an eyebrow in Anakin’s direction.</p><p>“Hey, don’t look at me, I was trying to get to Yoda’s,” he protested.</p><p>“Oh yes, because that’s much better,” the goddess answered, rolling her eyes.</p><p>“Anyway,” Anakin said, shooting a dark look in Ahsoka’s direction, one she replied to with a wide smile, “we clash with the High Council often enough as it is, and if we are to convince them the Sith are really back, we ought to try not to annoy them too much … thus, the adherence to the rules.”</p><p>“I see,” said Padmé. She was fixing her hair, using her reflection in the window for help. “And where exactly are we headed? Is there a specific place where the High Council convenes?”</p><p>“There is a room, in Yoda’s palace,” Ahsoka said.</p><p>“Perfectly designed—their chairs are in a placed in a perfect circle, and whoever wishes to speak to them must stand in the middle, so that no matter where they are, they can be sure at least one of them is judging them behind their back,” Anakin added, snickering.</p><p>“Oh, yes,” Ahsoka said. She had one of her lightsabers in her hand, and was currently cleaning it, using a small brush, not unlike the one Sola sometimes used to add delicate details to her works. The Crown Princess of Naboo was known for her artistic talent all throughout the Mortal Realm. “Obi-Wan has an amazing<em> I’m-judging-you</em> face. I have known the man my entire life, and still, he is able to guilt me into admitting things. It’s a nightmare.”</p><p>“<em>Yes</em>,” Anakin added. “I swear, it’s almost worse than Windu … mostly because I actually care about Obi-Wan, and have no desire to disappoint him, but still …”</p><p>“So … disappointing Windu, the God of War, that’s fine, but Obi-Wan … Ben, the Lord of Justice … that you cannot do,” Padmé surmised.</p><p>“<em>Cannot</em>,” Anakin said, smiling, “would imply an inability.”</p><p>“You know what I meant.”</p><p>“Ignore him,” Ahsoka said. “Look, disappointing Obi-Wan is <em>hard</em>. He is a master of guilt-tripping.”</p><p>“Agreed,” Anakin chimed in.</p><p>“So, Obi-Wan is of limits, but everyone else is fair game, and you don’t care for their opinion?” Padmé said. “I’m just trying to get a sense of the dynamics going on here.”</p><p>Ahsoka nodded, but Anakin spoke.</p><p>“I … used to care,” he began, fiddling with the hem of his coat. “A lot. Too much. But … it’s been a long time, and I’ve …” he frowned. “I guess I decided their opinions don’t matter to me.”</p><p>“And he taught me his rogue ways,” Ahsoka said, snickering, but Anakin did not lose his thoughtful expression.</p><p>“I wouldn’t say that,” he said. “I think having you around helped me realize how irrelevant they are—I think we figured it out together.”</p><p>“Why, isn’t that sweet,” Ahsoka teased.</p><p>The rest of the trip was spent preparing Padmé for her first encounter with the High Council, and joking at everyone’s (but mostly Anakin’s) expense. All in all, she could say with absolute certainty that this was one of the most enjoyable carriage rides in her life, and not in the least because there wasn’t a road beneath them to be bumpy and annoying.</p><p>“We’ve arrived,” Ahsoka said, after a few hours of travel, looking at Padmé and smiling. “You might want to see this.” She pointed at the window.</p><p>Excited, Padmé moved closer to the glass and found herself watching an enormous building. Its design reminded her of the Ziggurats she had only read about in the palace library. Five thin ivory spires sprouted from the building’s flat top, four in each quadrant, and the fifth one towering over them all in the centre.</p><p>The carriage began descending, until it set down gently on the landing platform. </p><p>One of Lord Yoda’s servants came forth, dressed in swamp-green robes, and opened the carriage door for them.</p><p>“Ladies first,” Anakin said with a wink.</p><p>Ahsoka took that as her cue, flashing them both a fanged smile. She refused the servant’s offered hand, and stepped out with the athletic grace that spoke of centuries of practice.</p><p>Padmé, ever conscious of civility, and the talk of not offending anyone still fresh in her mind, accepted the man’s assistance with a thankful smile, and Anakin followed after her. The determined expression from before had returned.</p><p>“The High Council will see you now,” said the servant, a tall, Palliduvan man.</p><p>“Yes, we know the way,” Ahsoka interrupted him. “And this is a matter of some urgency, so, if it is no trouble to you, may we proceed now?”</p><p>“Of course, my lady,” the man said, and turned towards the entrance.</p><p>The chamber Anakin and Ahsoka had mentioned happened to be at the very top of one of the ivory spires.</p><p>Standing before the rather plain metal door to that famed place, the servant paused.</p><p>“I am to announce Lord Vader, Lady Fulcrum, and …?” he cast a questioning glance in Padmé’s direction.</p><p>She waited for a second to see if Anakin wanted to … but he just curved a brow. All right, then.</p><p>“Padmé Naberrie,” she said. “Princess of Naboo.”</p><p>The man’s red-tinted eyes lit up with recognition, but he didn’t say anything. The doors opened to reveal a circular chamber, furnished with futuristic-looking armchairs. Each seated a different person. A different god.</p><p>He went in first, the other three waiting behind.</p><p>“Lady Fulcrum, Lord Vader, and Princess Naberrie, my lieges.”</p><p>And so they stepped in. True to Anakin’s word, they had to stand in the middle of the room, and now she understood what he meant about judging gazes. She physically <em>couldn’t</em> meet the eyes of every single member of the High Council, even if she tried, but she felt <em>their</em> gazes, prickling at her skin, calculating, condescending, sneering.</p><p>Some, she recognized from the paintings and statues, some, she did not. But when her gaze fell upon the small, wrinkled creature with green skin and massive ears, she knew instantly who she was seeing.</p><p>Lord Yoda’s clear green eyes narrowed at the sight of her. He was dressed in plain brown robes, and he sported a gnarled stick that could, she supposed, pass for a cane. Fluffy white hair sprouted around his ears.</p><p>Not impressive, not imposing, but every centimetre a king nonetheless.</p><p>Next to him, a dark-skinned, bald human man was scowling. His purple suit was obviously finely made and expensive, but not overly opulent, and it complimented his complexion well. The colour gave him away more than anything else—Windu, the Lord of War, was the only one of the elder gods who wielded a purple blade.</p><p>There were many others to see—the regal Lady Ti, Mistress of Love, easily recognized by her impressive montrals, Lord Koon, Master of the Sky, a Kel Dor whose breathing mask was made of pure gold, wearing a gold-threaded suit to match, Lord Fisto, Master of the Sea, a Nautolan whose cravat was mysteriously missing, and silken shirt opened to reveal a hint of the sculpted chest beneath.</p><p>But who caught Padmé’s eye most of all was a handsome, fair-skinned human man, with glossy auburn hair and a neatly trimmed beard. He wore an elegant white suit with golden accents, and sat sprawled in his armchair, rather like a cat, one leg crossed over a knee. That would be Ben, Lord of Justice … or Obi-Wan, she supposed. His stormy blue eyes followed Anakin’s every move.</p><p>“Lord Vader. Lady Fulcrum,” Yoda greeted them. The tension in the roomm could be cut with a knife. Or a lightsaber.</p><p>“What is the meaning of this?” Windu spoke, in a deep, confident tone. His dark eyes found Padmé’s, but she refused to back down. “I hope you have a reasonable excuse for bringing a mortal Princess to Ahch-To, Vader.”</p><p>“I do,” Anakin said, crossing his arms. “But that is completely irrelevant right now. All you need to know is that Princess Naberrie is here of her own free will, and that she will be staying.”</p><p>“I disagree,” Windu countered coldly. “The Princess is to be returned to her kingdom immediately, she is—”</p><p>“<em>She</em> has a name and a voice,” Padmé cut in, squaring her shoulders and meeting the Lord of War’s gaze. “And she has no plans of returning.”</p><p>“This is not a matter of discussion,” Windu growled, “<em>Highness.</em>”</p><p>“With all due respect, my lord,” Padmé replied, cocking her head, “I don’t see how I am in any way the concern of this Council, especially when there are so matters far more pressing for you to concern yourselves with.”</p><p>“Perhaps we should all take a step back,” a beautiful human woman whose dark hair was pulled into a set of elaborate braids behind her head spoke.</p><p>“I second Lady Billaba’s proposal,” said Lady Ti, voice gentle and bearing serene. “I suspect you did not call for this meeting to discuss Princess Naberrie’s presence, Lord Vader.”</p><p>A murmur of went through the gods, some giving their assent, some countering that, until a loud, piercing sound of a cane hitting the mosaic-decorated marble floor sounded, and a hush fell over them all.</p><p>“Speak, Lord Vader shall,” Lord Yoda said, “for this meeting he has called, correct, am I? Mhhhhm?”</p><p>“As always,” Anakin said dejectedly. “Now that you have all calmed enough to comprehend what I have to tell you, I regret to inform you that the Veil has been broken.”</p><p>The Council’s reaction wasn’t like Ahsoka’s—<em>they</em> just paused whatever they were doing, suspicious eyes pointed directly at Anakin, who bore the force of their attention admirably.</p><p>“Anakin,” someone said, and Padmé turned to see Obi-Wan speaking, now sitting more appropriately. “That is not a very tasteful joke.”</p><p>“It’s not a joke,” Ahsoka said. “Just because we in Ahch-To couldn’t sense it, it doesn’t mean it did not happen.”</p><p>“On the contrary, I that is precisely what that means,” Windu spat. “What you claim is impossible. Or maybe you think that<em> his</em> senses and power are more attuned than all of ours? What you claim is <em>impossible</em>.”</p><p>“I don’t <em>think</em>,” Ahsoka replied, lip curled in disdain. “I <em>know.</em>”</p><p>“I’m not done yet,” Anakin cut in before the Lord of War and the Lady of Fire tore each other to pieces. He was remarkably calm, even if Padmé could see the storm boiling beneath. “After I first sensed the Veil being pierced, I naturally went there … and was faced with the lifeless corpse of Lady Offee, whom you may remember as the Spirit of Light corrupted by Sidious from beyond the Veil some seven hundred years ago.”</p><p>“Anakin …” Obi-Wan whispered. “What are you saying?”</p><p>“I was then faced with the Sith Lord Momin,” Anakin went on mercilessly, ignoring Obi-Wan’s pleading look. “I fought him and banished him back to Moraband, but not before he revealed to me a key piece of information … Sidious had, apparently, discovered a way to strip even immortals of life … he has not yet revealed this secret to any of his minions, and if what I know of him holds still, he is not likely to do it in any foreseeable time … but the fact remains that the Sith <em>have</em> returned, stronger and more dangerous than ever.”</p><p>“I do not believe that the Sith could have returned without us knowing,” Windu said, curving his lips into a small, mocking smile, and looking at the rest of the Council for support.</p><p>“Agree with Lord Windu, I do,” Yoda said.</p><p>Padmé watched in wonder as the High Councillors’ faces—scared, apprehensive, nervous—melted into the mocking expressions identical to Windu’s when they heard Yoda’s words.</p><p>
  <em>Yoda says jump, they ask how high, indeed.</em>
</p><p>“Yes, and this new scar on my face is just for fun,” Anakin hissed. “There’s no doubt of this—<em>they’re</em> back. Why would I lie about something like this?”</p><p>“Your intentions, Vader, have always mystified this Council,” Windu said. “Ought we to expect to understand them now? I should think not.”</p><p>“There is no time for this,” Anakin growled. “If we act now, we stand a better chance at defeating this evil!”</p><p>“You presume too much,” another god who Padmé didn’t recognize, said. Her blood boiled at the clear dismissal.</p><p>“Perhaps I do,” Anakin said coldly. “But when my <em>presuming too much</em> is the only thing standing between you and the Sith …”</p><p>“You fought for the Sith three thousand years ago,” Mundi, the Cerean Lord of Marriage and Fertility, said. “This, to me, seems like an elaborate ploy in their favour—how can we be really sure you never stopped being their agent, Vader?”</p><p>“That was three millennia ago!” Padmé protested. “How dare you even presume—”</p><p>“Silence, girl,” Mundi snapped.</p><p>“I will not be silenced by the likes of <em>you</em>,” Padmé replied, infuriatingly cold. “And to imagine that I thought our deities to be more mature than a pack of squabbling children just this morning …”</p><p> Mundi took in a sharp breath, but she could swear Koon was slightly amused, steepling his clawed fingers together.</p><p>“All Four Realms are in grave danger,” Padmé went on mercilessly. “You have been given a chance to prevent it.”</p><p>“By people much older and wiser than all three of you, the Veil has been crafted. Broken so easily, it can be not,” Yoda spoke, face carved from stone.</p><p>“Well obviously it can,” Anakin snapped. “I thought we all agreed never to underestimate Sidious again, after the Great War was won.”</p><p>“Underestimating him, this is not. Breaking the Veil, impossible it is,” the King of All Gods replied, narrowing his eyes and leaning to the front.</p><p>“And impossible things have never happened before?” Ahsoka cut in. “We are Jedi. We live the ‘impossible’.”</p><p>“Only … <em>mortals</em> think that,” Windu sneered, glancing quickly at Padmé, who did her best to hide her indignation. “Anyone with immortal blood knows very well that ‘possible’ and ‘impossible’ are two very separate spheres. As you too, young Fulcrum, would have known … if you had not had such … an unconventional upbringing.”</p><p>Anakin bore the insult remarkably well, with only the slightest tightening of his fists, considering Padmé wanted to slap that self-satisfied look off Windu’s face, and if she drew ichor in the process, all the better.</p><p>Ahsoka was actually growling.</p><p>“Ahsoka’s upbringing is not the topic of this discussion,” Padmé said, emulating the way her father spoke whenever he was giving orders he knew the recipient wouldn’t like. “That would be the return of the Sith, and the imminent war that is upon us. The danger grows <em>as we speak</em>.”</p><p>“There <em>is</em> no imminent war with the Sith,” Windu said. “And we still haven’t addressed the main issue here!”</p><p>“And what would that be?” Anakin demanded.</p><p>Windu’s eyes seemed ready to burst out of their sockets. Faster than her eyes could follow, he pointed at Padmé. “Her!”</p><p>“And what is it about me that bothers you so much, Lord Windu?” she asked, folding her hands over her stomach, a picture of regal beauty.</p><p>“You,” he snarled, “are to be returned to your kingdom and your parents immediately.”</p><p>“I don’t think so,” she said, allowing her lip to curl in disdain.</p><p>“It is not a matter of choice,” Mundi snapped.</p><p>“Princess Naberrie is under my protection as a member of my court,” Anakin countered smugly. “Any attempt to tear her from my side without her explicit consent would violate the Treaty of Coruscant.”</p><p>Windu opened his mouth to protest, then shut it again.</p><p>Yoda, however, had more to add. “Predicted in the Treaty, this situation is not.”</p><p>“The Treaty protects <em>all</em> my courtiers and all my people from Ahch-To’s arbitrariness,” Anakin retorted. “I formally accept Princess Naberrie as one of my advisors, and as such, she is beyond your grasp and power.”</p><p>“The consequences for the Mortal Realm, consider did you not?” Yoda went on. “That the King of Naboo will be pleased with his daughter leaving like this, I cannot imagine.”</p><p>“Especially considering the oncoming alliance with Scipio,” added Windu.</p><p>“The King of Naboo will have to satisfy himself with his daughter being a part of the Court of Mustafar,” Anakin replied. Flashing a grin, he added, “And besides, an alliance with Mustafar is far more lucrative than one with Scipio, even if I do say so myself.”</p><p>“You would offer an alliance to Naboo?” Windu said, raising a brow, “thus violating the Fifth Great Convention, yet you ask us to hold to the Treaty of Coruscant even when you are blatantly manipulating it?”</p><p>“Unless something has changed in the past three millennia,” Anakin began, smiling sweetly, “the Great Conventions are meetings between the Children of the Daughter, which I am not, neither by birth nor choice.“In fact, I have never even received an invitation for a Great Convention in my three thousand years of life, much less put my signature on any of the documents that they produced. Therefore,” he finished, “I am not in any way bound by them.”</p><p>“May we please return to the matter at hand,” Ahsoka cut in. “Obviously, the Princess’s status is sealed, and no amount of grumbling will change that. We all know how stubborn Lord Vader is when he gets something in his head.”</p><p>Anakin seemed ready to argue the <em>stubborn</em> point, but then he considered and shrugged. “Lady Fulcrum is correct. There are matters of greater significance at hand, and this Council needs to do something about them <em>right now</em>.”</p><p>“Impossible, that we have declared,” Yoda said, banging his cane on the floor. “That discussion, closed it is. The discussion of Princess Naberrie’s fate, open it remains.”</p><p>Anakin opened his mouth to argue again, but Padmé put a hand on his forearm.</p><p><em>Let me.</em>With a wicked grin, he stepped back, and allowed her into the spotlight.</p><p>“My lords, my ladies,” Padmé began. “I understand the cause if your concerns, I really do. However, the fact is that I have willingly and in full possession of my senses chosen to join Lord Vader’s court, and have no plans on changing that resolution. Now, unless someone has a valid argument against that, which Lord Vader or Lady Fulcrum have not already refuted, speak now. If not, then frankly, I don’t see how this is any of your business.”</p><p>“You are a Princess of a sovereign kingdom, and as such—” Mundi began, but Padmé cut in.</p><p>“The <em>younger</em> Princess, Lord Mundi. Not the heiress to the throne, not vital to any political schemes aside from my engagement to the Crown Prince of Scipio, which will, I assure you all, soon be ended.”</p><p>“This could very well mean war in the Mortal Realm, Vader,” Windu snapped mockingly. “And I thought you had greater concerns at hand?”</p><p>“Do you really think Scipio would dare to attack Naboo if they had the protection of Mustafar, though?” said Lord Koon, surprising everyone in the room.</p><p>Padmé could swear that she saw some god who’s been silent up until now, and who she couldn’t recognize, mouth <em>‘traitor’</em> at him.</p><p>“Fine!” Windu snapped. Yoda didn’t seem quite so convinced, but he also did not let his temper rule him like Windu did with his. He leaned back in his chair and regarded her with ill-disguised disdain.</p><p>
  <em>Same to you, Yoda, same to you.</em>
</p><p>“If you are so disinclined to believe me,” Anakin said, drawing himself higher, and treating every single Councillor to the cold fire of his cerulean gaze, but addressing Yoda and Windu primarily, “I take my leave of you. Mustafar, as well as Lady Fulcrum’s lands, if I’m not mistaken,” he cast a questioning glance to Ahsoka, who answered with a firm nod, “will treat this as a state of war.” He paused. “I strongly suggest that you do the same, for your people’s sakes, not mine.”</p><p>Some gods looked vaguely uncomfortable, some even thoughtful, but Yoda and Windu remained firm in their conviction.</p><p>Anakin extended his hands, one to Padmé, one to Ahsoka. Both accepted, and in that moment, she felt herself vanish.</p><p>They reappeared in the middle of an enormous hall all in black marble, lit by great, intricate chandeliers that hung from the elaborately carved ceiling, held up by a set of gargantuan columns. At the far end of the hall, there was a throne sitting on an elevated dais.</p><p>Before Padmé had the time to register she had found herself in the Lord of Death’s throne room, the aforementioned Lord of Death began pacing furiously up and down, spitting curses and ranting in a language she didn’t know.</p><p>“Anakin,” Ahsoka said next to her, “in Commontongue, please.”</p><p>He paused, mouth agape, before smiling. “You always brighten my day with your lovely comments, Snips.”</p><p>“I do my best,” Ahsoka said, rolling her eyes. “They’re idiots, we expected nothing less.”</p><p>“I’m still disappointed,” he huffed.</p><p>“Some of them seemed thoughtful,” Padmé said. “Obi-Wan particularly, I think, and also Lord Koon.” She considered. “Lord Fisto as well. If nothing, I think they took your parting words to heart.”</p><p>“They might increase safety at their borders and instruct their spies to look for signs of anything being amiss,” Anakin sighed, “but without Yoda’s acceptance, I doubt they’ll raise their armies.”</p><p>“You were right on that account,” Padmé sighed. “When Yoda says jump, they<em> do</em> ask how high.”</p><p>Ahsoka chuckled.</p><p>“And,” Padmé continued, “I appreciate that you two stood up for me. Especially … she looked at Anakin, whose blue eyes sparkled in the firelight, “especially finding loopholes in treaties.”</p><p>Anakin beamed. “Of course. You’re one of us now, for as long as you want to be.”</p><p>She couldn’t help but return that smile, even as a warm feeling situated itself in her chest.</p><p>“Anyway …” Ahsoka said, clearing her throat, “I’m just going to … lots of things to do … the war, and all … see you around.”</p><p>“See you, Snips,” Anakin said, still looking at Padmé. She teleported away.</p><p>“So …” Padmé said, “what exactly is the Treaty of Coruscant?”</p><p>“The Treaty … oh.” He frowned. “It quite a long story, but in essence, three thousand years ago … the Jedi had just won the war … well,” he gave her a sheepish smile, “technically, <em>I</em> won that war, but … my point is, it wasn’t an easy time for any of us. The High Council was just formed, we had to figure out how to organize the world now, without the Children of the Son.</p><p>“And in all that mess … there was me. A former Sith.” He smiled bitterly. “They were very happy, you know, when I first defected. But once they didn’t need me to defeat the Sith for them … I think they hoped I’d die in the final battle, just so they wouldn’t have to put up with me afterwards, of Father forbid, actually acknowledge my input.”</p><p>He sighed. “So … some wanted to hunt me down with torches and pitchforks, some advocated for me to be left alone, some thought that I deserved a place among them.</p><p>“We were at the brink of a civil war over that, really, and we had only come out of another one. Add to that the nature of my power … it’s the power of death. This<em> leave me alone and hope never to see me again</em> policy some advocated for … that wouldn’t work. I was meant to be the Lord of Death.</p><p>“And that’s where the Treaty of Coruscant comes in. By then, it became apparent that I would<em> have</em> to take the Throne of Mustafar, if for no reason other than to keep an eye on the Veil.</p><p>“The Treaty is an agreement between the other Jedi and myself. It gives me the freedom that others don’t have, and protects my interests against theirs, and it gives <em>them</em> my word that I won’t march into Ahch-To and kill them all.”</p><p>“How charming,” she said. “That’s a lot of history.”</p><p>“I know, right?” Anakin said, chuckling. “Anyway—”</p><p>Whatever he meant to say was interrupted by loud exclamation of “Sire!”</p><p>Padmé turned to see a human marching forwards, dressed in a blue-accented military uniform. The man’s features were strong and handsome, his skin a warm shade of brown, his pale blond hair cropped close to his scalp. On his shoulder rested a large black bird, which rocketed off him and alighted gently on Anakin’s awaiting arm.</p><p>“Rex,” said, he, addressing the man. “Vaneé.”</p><p>Rex, Anakin’s general, if Padmé remembered correctly, threw her a questioning glance. “The clans have all agreed to raise their armies, sire,” he told Anakin. “And Vaneé took the freedom of contacting your spy network.”</p><p>“Good,” Anakin said. “What did the lords have to say?”</p><p>“Lots of bootlicking,” the crow spoke, an even though Padmé logically knew he could do that, it still startled her. “But they are doing all they can, and that is what matters.”</p><p>“As eloquent as ever, Vaneé,” Anakin sighed. “Right. May I introduce you to Padmé Naberrie, the Princess of Naboo, and the newest member of this court?”</p><p>“Gentlemen,” Padmé curtsied.</p><p>“Did you abduct a princess?” Vaneé asked, and Padmé wondered briefly how it was possible for a <em>bird</em> to sound so amused.</p><p>“It’s not an abduction if it’s consensual,” she told the crow, smiling faintly.</p><p>“General Rex, Madam, at your service,” the man said, bowing his head, and giving the crow a side-eye.</p><p>“Thank you, general. I appreciate it.”</p><p>“And this ill-mannered vermin is Vaneé,” he added, flashing a brief smile at the crow.</p><p>“My pleasure, Princess,” Vaneé said, executing an admirable attempt at a curtsy … for a bird.</p><p>“Honestly, you two,” Anakin said, “you and your atrocious manners are going to scare her off. She’ll think we are a bunch of savages.”</p><p>“Do you think me so easily frightened, Lord Vader?” Padmé asked, batting her lashes.</p><p>“It appears not,” he replied, smirking. “I am glad. I should hate to have you stand firm in your convictions before the High Council, only to lose you to the foolishness of Vaneé.”</p><p>“I’m offended,” Vaneé crowed, pressing a wing to his feathered chest in a silly emulation of the humanoids’ gesture.</p><p>“You have my deepest apologies,” Anakin said flatly, rolling his eyes.</p><p>“Oh, no, you are not getting rid of me so easily,” Padmé told him.</p><p>“As if I’d want to,” he said. “Well …” He bit his lip. “We should go visit your family … so I could offer your father that alliance and get the Jedi off our backs … but I know you said you did not want to do it yet, so ... whenever you are ready, I guess.”</p><p>She nodded thankfully. “I think I am, now. One should never underestimate the power of spite.”</p><p>He raised a brow. “Are you sure?”</p><p>“Yes … yes, I think I am.” She frowned. “You’ll have my back, right?”</p><p>Anakin nodded seriously, that same determination from before back in his eyes and bearing. “Of course.”</p><p>“Thank you.” She frowned. “I guess it’s for the best that we deal with that now, huh?”</p><p>“We don’t have to,” he said quickly. “Really, there’s no rush at all.”</p><p>“I … I don’t want to worry them, I guess,” Padmé admitted. “I think I am going to miss them when I’m gone.”</p><p>“It’s not forever,” he reminded her. “You can always visit.”</p><p>“It’s just …” She rubbed her eyes, equal measures frustrated and sad. “I’m frightened of their reaction. What if … what if they don’t agree … what if my father orders me to stay? I don’t want to go back.”</p><p>“Then,” said he, tone earnest and eyes sincere, “we damn the consequences, and I bring you back here.”</p><p>She looked up at him, startled. “You would do that?”</p><p>“Of course. I told you, you’re one of us now. Besides,” he smirked. “I said I would <em>offer</em> an alliance, I never said your father had to <em>accept</em> it. And if need be, I can protect Naboo from Scipio, allies or not.”</p><p>“I …” she shook her head. “Let us go, then?”</p><p>He frowned, and looked around, like a lost puppy.</p><p>“What’s the matter?” she asked.</p><p>“I seem,” he said, turning to her, “to have misplaced my helmet.”</p><p>“You left it in the library,” Rex said with a fond smile. “Before you went off to fight a Sith like a complete lunatic.”</p><p>Anakin paused. “So I did.” He vanished in a blaze of black light, and re-appeared almost instantly, carrying a black, skull-like mask.</p><p>“Put it on,” Padmé told him, curious despite herself.</p><p>He obeyed, and striked a pose.</p><p>“Am I pretty? How do I look?”</p><p>“Like a dork,” she said flatly. “Come on.”</p><p>“Rex, do make sure no<em> new</em> wars spring out of nowhere while we are away, will you?”</p><p>The general curved a brow, lip quirking almost imperceptibly. “Of course, sire.”</p><p>Anakin took Padmé’s hand, Vaneé perching proudly on his shoulder, and then, they vanished.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Oh my ... the High Jedi Council not believing the Sith have returned ... how is that even possible? We simply DON'T KNOW.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. IV: Family Matters</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Oh, man ... I really meant to wait with posting this, because I may or may not have fallen down the MCU rabbit hole again, and am currently working on something else ... and also I have like four essays till Monday ...<br/>But you are all such wonderful audience, and I simply couldn't help myself!</p><p>I hope you enjoy!!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>IV</strong>
</p><p><strong>Family Matters</strong> </p><p> </p><p>The dawn had broken over Naboo, over Theed, painting the beautiful city in shades of pink and blue, and everything in between. That was the first thing Padmé noticed. She had been away the whole night.</p><p>Guilt that had been strangely absent until now began gnawing at her, as if she had run away to hang out with a group of friends her parents did not approve of instead waging war upon the Children of the Son with the very gods they all worshipped.</p><p>The palace, her <em>home</em>, has never seemed so cold before, perching on top of a cliff, waterfalls thundering as they tumbled down into the less prestigious parts of Theed.</p><p>“Are you all right?” Anakin asked. The mask distorted his voice into a deep mechanical growl, but it had to be so—no mortal has ever seen the face of the Lord of Death.</p><p>No mortal—except for her. It was a strange thing to contemplate.</p><p>“I’m fine,” she said, her hands coming up to wrap around her shoulders to ward off the non-existent chill. “Or at least I will be, once this is all finished.”</p><p>“The war or meeting you family?”</p><p>She shot him a dark look. “Are you really trying to compare my family to a Realm-wide war?”</p><p>His hands shot up. “I didn’t say anything!”</p><p>She sighed, and let out a humourless chuckle. “Meeting my family.”</p><p>“All right … how do we do this, then?” Anakin asked.</p><p>She considered. “I will go in first,” she decided at last, adding, “We don’t want to scare them too much, do we now?” She flashed him an apologetic smile.</p><p>“Sounds prudent,” he replied.</p><p>“I explain what needs to be explained—everything. You come in afterwards, and once we are finished with all of this, we go kick some Sith arse.”</p><p>“Now, <em>that</em> sounds lovely,” he said, dark satisfaction drumming softly in his tone.</p><p>She nodded, eyes still fixed on the palace.</p><p>“Will you teleport me inside? So I don’t have to sneak around? I don’t want the servants to see me before my family does. It seems … unfair to them.”</p><p>“All right then. That makes sense.” He paused. “Where do you want me to bring you?”</p><p>“I don’t know … Can you sense where my family is?”</p><p>“I should be able to …” he left the sentence hanging, and cocked his head, concentrating. “Your nieces are asleep … the Duke is with them, guarding them … your parents are in a different wing of the palace.”</p><p>“Oh,” Padmé said. “Mother’s tea parlour, I presume?”</p><p>Even though she couldn’t see his face, she felt his baffled frown. “She has a parlour just for tea?”</p><p>“Well, where do you take your tea?” she teased.</p><p>“Wherever I want to. Do you also have separate dining rooms for the fish, the meat, and the vegetables as well?”</p><p>She chuckled. “All tremble before the great and powerful Lord of Death,” she said, “so big and independent that he can drink his tea anywhere he wants, all on his own!”</p><p>“Or … you know … practical enough that he does not have a room dedicated only to tea-drinking?” Anakin countered.</p><p>“That’s not how my mother would see it,” she drawled, battling her lashes at him.”</p><p>“I don’t need to prove myself to your mother,” he said confidently. The sentiment was somewhat lessened by the fact that he faltered almost right after he said it, and added, “Do I?”</p><p>“I don’t think so,” she replied. “Still,” she continued in a dead-serious voice, “better safe than sorry. Make sure you don’t mention your savage tea-drinking habits to her. She would never forgive the insult.”</p><p>He laughed, a strange sound when distorted by the helmet. “Did you know there is a Sith named Savage?”</p><p>She snapped her head in his direction, staring at him with open-mouthed astonishment.</p><p>“No,” she whispered. “I did not.”</p><p>“Yeah …” he paused, and she felt his amusement drop. “I sort of … pity him, actually. He was born mortal, you see, but another one of the Sith, a woman called Talzin, who was an expert in dark sorcery, learned how to give godlike powers to mortals. She <em>created</em> him.”</p><p>“That’s awful,” Padmé whispered. “What happened to him?”</p><p>“A lot of things. But eventually, he was defeated by Billaba, and locked up with the rest of them.” His shoulders slumped. “He and Maul—another Sith—were very close. Like brothers. Billaba lured Savage into a trap by feeding him false information—she spread the rumours that Maul had been captured by the Jedi.”</p><p>“Savage went to rescue him, and instead, he was faced with her,” Padmé finished. She understood his mournful countenance. “What about Talzin? And Maul?”</p><p>Anakin shrugged. “I defeated Talzin soon after. Her abilities are something that I am really,<em> really </em>not looking forward to facing again.</p><p>“Obi-Wan defeated Maul in the last days of the war. He was one of the greater Sith—apprentices to Sidious, along with Tyranus, and—me.”</p><p>He froze, probing for her reaction. Padmé smiled tenderly, and put her hand to his forearm. “You changing your allegiance makes up a big chunk of the stories about you,” she intoned gently. “And … I think it was very brave.”</p><p>“I …” he looked down, overwhelmed. “Thank you.” He sounded very, very small.</p><p>“Of course. I’m one of you after all,” she said, echoing him. “Come on. Let’s impress my parents.”</p><p>She extended a hand, which he took. “You still haven’t told me where am I to drop you off.”</p><p>Her brows shot up. “I haven’t? Are my parents still in the tea parlour?”</p><p>He nodded. “And your sister. And … eugh. Your <em>fiancé.</em>”</p><p>“Don’t be mean!” she said, swatting his arm. “I don’t like him either, but it’s not like he’d going to be my fiancé for long. Just bring me in front of the door.”</p><p>She felt his smirk return. “Daring, are we?”</p><p>“Indeed we are,” said she, with a smirk to match, as they vanished.</p><hr/><p>Padmé took a deep breath, before throwing open the doors of her mother’s tea parlour. She watched with morbid amusement as her family and Clovis all turned to her, the rage at being interrupted slowly melting into shock at the sight of the missing princess. Sola was the first to snap out of it, rushing to embrace Padmé while the other three were still gaping at her as if she had suddenly grown a second head.</p><p>Sola was mumbling something into her hair, but tears had clogged her throat so much that Padmé could only catch above one word in five.</p><p>“Sweet sister … what happened … so worried …”</p><p>Finally, the other three came to their senses.</p><p>Mother and Father approached gingerly, wonder in their eyes, and gently embraced their two daughters.</p><p>“Padmé,” said her father into her hair.</p><p>“Papa,” Padmé whispered. She hadn’t called him that since she was a little girl, yet here she was, barely supressing tears.</p><p>“What happened?” Mother demanded, brows scrounged up in concern and makeup disturbed. “Where <em>were</em> you?”</p><p>“I …” Padmé began, “I think we should all sit down for this.”</p><p>Mother nodded, and rang the maid to bring some more tea. Padmé couldn’t help a wet chuckle that escaped her throat when she remembered Anakin’s indignation at having a room exclusively for drinking it. Father gave her a strange look at that.</p><p>The maid arrived, and the beverage was poured in silence. Only after she was gone, did Father speak.</p><p>“Well, little one?”</p><p>Padmé took a deep breath. “It’s not … it’s not easy to explain, so I need all of you to bear with me.”</p><p>They nodded, her family with tears in their eyes, Prince Clovis stone-faced.</p><p>“All right, then … I was in the company of Vader and Fulcrum.”</p><p>It was amusing, really, to see their reactions—Clovis got the most ridiculous baffled expression, Sola’s brows scrounged up in confusion, her father’s eyes narrowed, and her mother let out a soft chuckle.</p><p>“Now darling,” said the Queen, “do be serious.”</p><p>“I am,” Padmé said. She looked at Clovis, and smiled faintly. “Do you remember, Your Highness, when I said that the Lord of Death has better things to do than wander our gardens in the dead of night?”</p><p>Clovis nodded, still looking very confused.</p><p>“Well,” Padmé said, rolling her shoulders, “it appears I was incorrect.” She took another sip of her tea, merely as an excuse to pause. Her heart thrummed nervously in her chest. “I was invited,” she said slowly, “to join Lord Vader’s court.”</p><p>She looked up, directly into her father’s eyes. “I accepted.”</p><p>“Padmé, dearest,” the King said, “I understand how you might think this is funny, although I had thought you were more mature than this, but—”</p><p>“I am not joking,” Padmé interrupted. “I am not joking, or lying, nor am I delusional. I came here to inform you that I will not be coming back—except for occasional visits, of course.”</p><p>“Now, wait a minute,” Clovis interrupted, suddenly red in the face. “This isn’t proper. You are my fiancée—we are engaged to be married. Even if what you are saying is true,” and his tone indicated that he didn’t believe a word, “you can’t just<em> leave</em>.”</p><p>Padmé felt her blood boiling. “I think you will find, Prince Clovis, that I very much can. And I intend to.”</p><p>Clovis took a few strides forward. Padmé heard her mother gasp in the background.</p><p>“I will not stand for this,” he hissed, face flushed and eyes bulging. “<em>Scipio</em> will not stand for this!”</p><p>“You will have to,” a new voice said, startling everyone in the room, except for Padmé, who had been expecting it all along.</p><p>Without taking her eyes off Clovis, she let her lips curve into a small, triumphant smile.</p><p>“Your timing is excellent.”</p><p>“Practice,” Anakin said.</p><p>Finally, Padmé tore her eyes away from her former betrothed, looked at him, resplendent in all his power, and came to stand at his side.</p><p>With her still wearing black from the Feast for Souls ceremony, they matched. It struck her in that moment that this was a meeting between three courts—and that she belonged to a different one than the rest of her family.</p><p>She knew it would happen eventually—by the Ones, she spent her entire life just waiting to be married off to Clovis and become the Queen of Scipio … but she had never imagined that the experience will be so surreal.</p><p>“Your Majesties, Your Highnesses,” Anakin said, inclining his head, as much respect as the immortal Lord of Death would show to mortal royals. Her family looked absolutely stunned, Clovis both stunned <em>and</em> terrified. “I believe we have some matters to discuss,” Anakin continued.</p><p>He snapped his fingers, and twin black-padded chairs appeared behind him and Padmé.</p><p>Simultaneously, they sat. As Padmé was sinking in, she tried to communicate what she thought of <em>that</em> little trick with her eyes.</p><p>
  <em>Show off.</em>
</p><p>Whether she had been successful, she could not tell.</p><p>Sola, bless her soul, snapped out of it first. “My lord,” she said in a shaky voice. Then she turned her eyes to Padmé. “You weren’t joking,” she breathed.</p><p>“I wasn’t.”</p><p>“Lord Vader,” her father began, also having found his voice. “How … how can we help you?”</p><p>“It’s quite simple, Majesty,” Anakin said. “Your daughter has graciously accepted my offer to join my court, and is now wishing to inform you of it. I am here to settle the specifics.”</p><p>“You cannot just take her away!” the queen exclaimed, twisting her beringed fingers together.</p><p>“Mother,” Padmé cut in soothingly, “he is not taking me away.”</p><p>“You had a future!” the queen continued her lament, ignoring everyone.</p><p>“She still has one,” Anakin tried, but Padmé’s mother wouldn’t be stopped.</p><p>“What of your engagement? It has been standing since you were born, and planned even before that!”</p><p>“Mother!” Padmé snapped. “Compose yourself. I am not going away forever—I shall most certainly visit! And besides, this is no different than if I were married to Prince Clovis!”</p><p>“It most certainly is!” the queen retorted haughtily.</p><p>Padmé groaned internally. “Mother, I am not going to change my mind about this. Now, if you all would actually listen to what Lord Vader has to propose, so that we may go on?”</p><p>“All right then,” her father said, his emotions carefully contained behind a cool mask. “Let us hear it.”</p><p>“Thank you, Majesty,” Anakin said, inclining his head again. “Now, your daughter’s going with me is a settled thing, and nothing save herself deciding otherwise is going to change that.”</p><p>“A moot point,” Father sighed. He looked to Padmé, and let some warmth trickle into his eyes. “Is this what you really want, sweetheart?”</p><p>“Yes.” If she wasn’t sure before, she was now. “It is.”</p><p>The King’s lip twitched a fraction. She felt her mother’s boiling protests, but the queen didn’t speak yet.</p><p>“All right then,” Father said, and the slight twitch became a smile.</p><p>Of course, that’s when the torrent of Mother’s objections broke loose. Padmé only listened to about a half of it, but<em> alliance</em> and <em>engaged to be married</em> and <em>not planned</em> were scattered liberally throughout her speech.</p><p>Anakin bore it all dutifully, and Padmé thought briefly how three millennia of enduring the High Council bickering must have prepared him to endure all sorts of discomforts.</p><p>The longer this went on, the more embarrassed Padmé grew.</p><p>When she finally paused for breath, Anakin cut in. “I understand your concerns, Your Majesty,” he said. “Fortunately, there is a solution.”</p><p>“Oh?” the queen said.</p><p>Anakin raised his chin. “Majesties, I hereby officially offer you an alliance.”</p><p>Padmé watched as her parents’, sister’s, and former fiancé’s jaws dropped.</p><p>“Ex—excuse me?” Sola stammered.</p><p>“You heard me,” Anakin replied calmly. He turned his masked head to Clovis. “So you see, Prince Clovis, I don’t believe Scipio <em>will</em> want to retaliate, not if Naboo has the patronage and protection of Mustafar.”</p><p>Clovis gulped, and shrunk under the intensity of the god’s masked gaze.</p><p>“I don’t know how to respond to this,” Padmé’s father said carefully. “What exactly would this <em>alliance</em> entail?”</p><p>Anakin shrugged. “I don’t need anything from you,” he said bluntly. “But I also have no wish to see Padmé’s home attacked and razed over Prince Clovis’s petty quarrel. This is my way of ensuring it doesn’t happen.”</p><p>“<em>Petty quarrel</em>—” Clovis began, but Padmé silenced him with a single look.</p><p>“So you would make no demands of us?” Father continued, ignoring Clovis’s outburst.</p><p>“None, save your daughter.”</p><p>“I see.”</p><p>“<em>Now</em>, excuse me,” Clovis cut in, “but I believe I deserve at least <em>some</em> compensation, for losing my fiancée?”</p><p>Anakin snapped his head to Clovis. When he spoke, he did nothing to conceal the cold disgust in his voice. “And what would you deem proper … compensation, Your Highness?”</p><p>Clovis puffed out his chest. “An alliance. Just like you have offered the King.”</p><p>Anakin scoffed. “I think not.”</p><p>Clovis’s face flushed again, but Anakin ignored the indignant spluttering that resulted, addressing Padmé’s family again.</p><p>“Do you accept?”</p><p>“So, let me get this clear,” Sola spoke. “You want Padmé to be your advisor, and in return, you’re offering us an alliance with Mustafar as compensation for the loss of our alliance with Scipio. And in this alliance … you want nothing from us?”</p><p>“That is correct.”</p><p>Sola looked to Father and Mother. “I don’t see why we wouldn’t accept. An alliance with <em>Mustafar</em>—”</p><p>“And what of our honour?” Mother demanded. “Padmé has been promised to Scipio since she was born … that is twenty years!”</p><p>“Divine intervention, my love,” Father sighed. “I would say it warrants this breach.” He turned to Anakin. “Very well, Lord Vader. Naboo accepts your offer.”</p><p>“Excellent,” Anakin purred, and rose from his chair. With a casual wave of his hand a scroll of black paper appeared out of thin air, and unravelled of its own volition before their eyes. Silvery ink shone in the candlelight.</p><p>Anakin extended the contract to Padmé’s family, who all read through it. She watched with distant fascination as her father and Anakin put their signatures and wax seals onto it.</p><p>“And lastly,” Anakin said, “I would ask you to keep this alliance to yourself.”</p><p>“But,” Sola said, “How are we to explain Padmé’s going away otherwise?”</p><p>“Oh, you can proclaim that she is with me,” Anakin replied, “But the alliance itself? Not very prudent, I fear. It might put a target on your back, considering the Sith are back.”</p><p>Watching everyone’s reactions was definitely something, Padmé decided.</p><p>“What … what do you mean?” Mother asked, face pale. “How is that even possible?”</p><p>“That is yet to be determined,” Anakin sighed. “But yes, yesterday evening, the Veil was broken, and the Sith have escaped.”</p><p>“But …” Father stuttered, “that will mean …”</p><p>“Realm-wide war? Yes. Another reason I am pleased that you have signed that alliance.” He paused. “You not telling anyone is for your protection only. As a matter of fact—”</p><p>He froze abruptly, raising his masked head in a distinctly animalistic fashion, one hand edging towards the metallic hilt of a lightsaber that hung on his belt.</p><p>“Actually,” he said softly, “scratch that. They are already here.”</p><p>Oh.</p><p>Oh <em>damn</em>.</p><p>Padmé felt her posture grow rigid, and she reached for the dagger hidden within her corset, much good it would do her.</p><p>“Come now,” Anakin called, as if speaking to a wild animal, “show yourself. We already know you’re here.”</p><p>Nothing happened, except the silence produced by six different people holding their breaths in nervous, <em>terrified</em> anticipation.</p><p>Then, out of nowhere, a <em>shade</em> of black and glowing red appeared and charged at Anakin. Faster than Padmé though possible, he ignited his lightsaber—a beautiful, shining blue—and met the attacker.</p><p>For a mere second, she witnessed the Sith—a slim Zabrak woman with a shaved head and tattooed scalp, bearing down on Anakin with twin swords of crimson.</p><p>Anakin’s booted leg shot out to swipe the ground from underneath the Sith’s feet. She jumped to avoid it, thus disengaging their lightsabers, and losing the advantage her sudden attack had given her.</p><p>“Hello, Ventress,” Anakin said, “it’s been a while.” He brought down his saber down on her in an azure arc, but she shifted her torso and jumped out of its way. “I cannot, however, claim to have missed you.</p><p>“Likewise, Vader,” Ventress replied in a deep, husky voice, like a smoker’s. She swung her sabers towards Anakin, aiming for his neck. “Likewise.”</p><p>Anakin twisted out of the way, and landed a hard kick to Ventress’s ribs. The Sith Lady made a disgusted face and spat a mouthful of glimmering golden blood on Mother’s antique carpet.</p><p>She gave him a ferocious grin, made all the more terrifying by the trail of gold that dripped down her chin, and drawled, “Lord Sidious sends his regards.”</p><p>Anakin froze. Had his face been visible, Padmé was convinced he would be gaping. His inattention allowed Ventress to send a wave of corrupted power his way, and send him scattering into the opposite wall.</p><p>Padmé felt her blood boil. Ventress marched over to Anakin, triumph written all over her slight form, exposing her vulnerable back. A big mistake.</p><p>Padmé had spent hours upon hours perfecting her skill with blades and pistols of all sorts—it was a public secret of the royal family, but all of them were well versed in martial arts and self-defence.</p><p>Ventress, apparently, hadn’t gotten the memo.</p><p>As she prowled like a cat towards Anakin, Padmé sent the dagger flying, as she had done many times before, except this time, her target wasn’t the bull’s eye eclipsed by colourful concentric circles, but the small bit of exposed flesh between the Sith Lady’s shoulder blades.</p><p>Just as the leather-bound hilt of her weapon left her hand, Anakin unleashed a wave of dark power and pushed Ventress back, impaling her squarely in the back.</p><p>A guttural scream tore from the Sith Lady’s lips, and she fell back with a resounding <em>thud</em>. Within moments, both Anakin and Padmé were on their knees by her side. Invisible power coiled around Anakin, as he did … something to Ventress’s wound, and then vanished her with a flash of dark light. “Where did you send her?” Padmé asked, once she trusted herself to speak.</p><p>“Mustafar,” Anakin replied, shoulders tight, and fists clenched. “Rex will know how to contain her.” He looked up, opaque red lenses of his mask meeting her eyes. “Are you all right?”</p><p>“Are you? You’re the one who actually fought her, not me.”</p><p>“You’re the one who beat her, though,” he said. “That was some knife throwing.”</p><p>She crossed her arms over her chest. “Flattery will not get you out of answering the question.”</p><p>He seemed taken aback by her concern. “I … of course. I’m just … I’m still a bit raw from my fight with Momin.”</p><p>She curved a brow. “And …” he relented, “I was … caught off-guard by her mentioning Sidious. It hit … a bit too close to home.</p><p>“I see,” Padmé said. She reached out and took his gloved hands into hers. He pressed them. A silent sign of gratitude. “So … what now?”</p><p>“Actually,” he said, sounding much more cheerful, “Ventress solved that for us. The next step <em>would have been</em> trying to capture a Sith to present to the High Council, though I did not expect us to be able to find one quite so famous.”</p><p>“Famous?” Padmé asked. “What’s her story?”</p><p>“She—” Anakin began, but was interrupted by Clovis clearing out his throat.</p><p>“Not that this isn’t touching and all,” she heard her former fiancé’s sneering voice from somewhere in the background, “but what in the Father’s name just happened?!”</p><p>Anakin froze, and looked at her as if he’d forgotten there were others in the room. If she was being quite honest, Padmé had forgotten that as well.</p><p>“A Sith,” she spoke before he could. “One of the Sith who had escaped Moraband.”</p><p>“We had figured out as much,” Clovis said, voice cold.</p><p>“Then why did you ask?” Anakin snapped. “There is a war on, Prince Clovis, or there will be soon enough.” He rose to his feet, cold and imperious. “I suggest you take necessary preparations.”</p><p>Clovis's face paled, eyes going wide.</p><p>Padmé followed Anakin up. Standing by his side like this, privy to a world the other mortals in the room could only dream of … she felt strong … no, better than that. She felt powerful.</p><p>“And we apologize for your carpet, Mother,” she added as an afterthought, a small smile curving her lips.</p><p>The Queen’s dark eyes felt to the blots of gold on the plush fabric. This particular carpet had been a wedding gift from the King of Coruscant. She said nothing, though.</p><p>“Anyway,” Anakin said quickly. “We should probably go. A war to fight and all …” he sounded almost sheepish. “Oh, and one more thing, before I forget.</p><p>He whirled to Clovis, a visage of Death, and spoke quietly, and viciously. “Prince Clovis.”</p><p>His head shot up, face tight. “My lord?”</p><p>“Should my priests in Scipio face the consequences of Princess Naberrie’s decisions, I shall consider it an act of war ... and proceed accordingly.”</p><p>Clovis’s only response was a very pronounced gulp and further blanching of his skin.</p><p>He turned to Padmé next, and told her, quiet enough that the others realized his next words were not meant for them. “I assume you want to say your goodbyes?”</p><p>She nodded. “I won’t be long.”</p><p>He cocked his head, and even though Padmé couldn’t see it, she knew there was a beaming smile under the mask.</p><p>And then he vanished, leaving her with her family, in her mother’s ruined tea parlour.</p><p>“Prince Clovis,” she said, folding her hands at her stomach, “it has been my pleasure and honour,” <em>hell no</em>, “to be your betrothed. If I could, I would push for a way to fulfil this oath—but no-one can be loyal to two kingdoms at once, least of all me.”</p><p>Clovis was sneering at her, the bastard. “I understand, Princess. I will not dishonour you by lying—I believe you have made the wrong choice, a choice you will most certainly come to regret one day.”</p><p>It took all of Padmé’s willpower not to pounce at his throat. “Your concern is … appreciated, Your Highness. I wish you a long and prosperous life.” <em>How about no</em>.</p><p>“Thank you,” Clovis said haughtily, but made no attempt at getting out. Fortunately, Father realized Padmé’s intentions.</p><p>“Prince Clovis,” said he, “since no agreement nor alliance binds our two kingdoms any longer, I see no need to keep you here anymore—I am certain you long to return to your home. Please, don’t let your well-bred manners get in the way of that.”</p><p>Padmé was impressed. It was a rather roundabout way of saying <em>get out</em>. She hadn’t thought her father was capable of such a thing.</p><p>Clovis raised his chin and rose from his chair.</p><p>“And make sure to bring our well-wishes to your father,” Sola cut in. “And our apologies for the abrupt ending of your betrothal.”</p><p>“Of course, Your Majesties, Your Highness,” Clovis said. Padmé didn’t miss the way he refused to include her in his greeting.</p><p>Oh, <em>tragic.</em> With a courteous bow that proved that good manners didn’t necessarily breed good <em>people</em>, Clovis disappeared behind the door.</p><p>“Well,” Sola said once he was gone, “I suppose this is it?”</p><p>Padmé shook her head. “This isn’t forever—I promised I would visit, I intend to keep that promise.”</p><p>Her father smiled melancholically. “There will be war soon,” he said softly, angling his head pointedly towards the golden stain on the carpet. “It has already begun really, except most don’t know it yet. Do you really think you’ll be able to come for tea and chit-chat while there are battles raging all around us?”</p><p>“Perhaps not,” she conceded. “But the war shall not last forever. We will win.”</p><p>“The last war lasted <em>six hundred</em> years,” Sola whispered.</p><p>Padmé narrowed her eyes. “This one is different.”</p><p>“How?” Sola asked, throwing her hands up in despair.</p><p>“Because, for the first <em>five hundred and ninety-nine</em> years of the first Great War, we didn’t have A—<em>Vader.</em>”</p><p>Sola noticed her slip—she could tell by the slight frown that contorted her sister’s brow. But Padmé ignored it—dwelling on it would do her no good. The Gods’ true names were not for mortals to know.</p><p>She … she was an exception to that as well, it seemed.</p><p>“So,” said she, forcing herself to sound composed, “the war shall not last forever.”</p><p>“But Padmé,” Mother asked, “why?”</p><p>“Why what?” she snapped. She regretted it as soon as she saw the expression on Mother’s face.</p><p>Mother, thank the gods, seemed to understand, her features softening. “Why would you leave us?”</p><p>“Do you expect me to cower and do nothing while a war rages the Four Realms?” she said, drawing herself up and squaring her shoulders. “I think not.”</p><p>“Except,” Father chimed in, voice grave, “you didn’t know about the war when you agreed to leave … did you.” It wasn’t a question.</p><p>
  <em>Damn.</em>
</p><p>Padmé steeled herself, and said the fateful words. “No. I did not.”</p><p>Mother’s face fell, Father just looked resigned. Sola’s lip quivered, as if she were gathering strength to ask the question.</p><p>“But … why?”</p><p>Padmé bit her lip. “Don’t doubt my love for you … please.” She hated how much it sounded like pleading. “I care for you all—deeply.” She shook her head. “But I wasn’t made for this life. I wanted more … my entire life, I’ve wanted more. I just never thought I would have the opportunity to get it.” She paused, stubbornly staring at her hands, marred with Ventress’s deep golden ichor.</p><p>She had done that—sent the blade that pierced her flying. She had hurt an immortal, a Sith Lady no less.</p><p>“But I got my opportunity, against all odds, and I am intending to take it.”</p><p>She raised her eyes to Sola, to Mother, to Father, taunting, daring, challenging.</p><p>None of them said anything.</p><p>That, perhaps, hurt most of all.</p><hr/><p>She said her goodbyes to Mother and Father while Sola went to her children’s bedroom to wake her daughters, and bring them, along with her husband.</p><p>Darred was looking at her with ill-hidden curiosity, but there was, thank the Father, nothing angry, or even disappointed in his gaze or demeanour.</p><p>The girls were stunned, to say the least, when they were told that Auntie Padmé would be leaving them.</p><p>“But I though you wouldn’t marry Prince Clovis until autumn,” said Ryoo, the elder of the two, dark eyes suspicious on her chubby face.</p><p>“I shan’t marry Prince Clovis at all,” Padmé replied, kneeling down and taking Ryoo’s small hands into her own. “Scipio is not where I’m going.”</p><p>Ryoo frowned, the expression far too cute on her face to be taken seriously. “But Mum said you would.”</p><p><em>Here comes the hard part</em>, thought Padmé. “I was invited … somewhere else … to another kingdom, to work as the King’s advisor.”</p><p>“But you’re a Princess,” Ryoo said. “You can’t be an <em>advisor</em>.”</p><p>She chuckled. “Of course I can.”</p><p>“Oh.” The girl seemed to concentrate very hard on something, before saying, “Are you going to marry that new King?”</p><p>Padmé dropped Ryoo’s hands and squealed a very decisive <em>“No!”</em></p><p>Neither Ryoo nor Pooja seemed to believe her, wearing identical frowns of suspicion. “Look girls,” said Padmé, “no matter what Grandmother tells you, I will come to visit, and I’ll tell you all about my new job.”</p><p>“Tomorrow?” Pooja chimed in. Padmé chuckled, and patted the girl’s head, disturbing some of her pressed curls.</p><p>“Well, not tomorrow,” she said. “But soon, okay? I promise.”</p><p>Ryoo nodded, but Pooja didn’t seem so sure.</p><p>“Where are you going, though?”</p><p>Ah. The hard part. “Somewhere you won’t follow until you’re, hopefully, very old and wrinkled.</p><p>Pooja narrowed her eyes and furrowed her nose. “As old as Grandmother?”</p><p>The queen made an awkward noise, but Padmé just chuckled. “Older than that.”</p><p>The girl made a face. “That’s dreadful. I want to visit you. You still haven’t told us where you’re going.”</p><p>Padmé sighed. “To a place called Mustafar.”          </p><p>She could pinpoint the exact moment the words reached her nieces’ minds. The girls’ jaws went slack, their pupils widening so much that the black nearly swallowed their brown (just like Padmé’s) irises.</p><p>Still, they took it far better than their parents, or grandparents.</p><p>“Does that mean you’ll bring us presents from the Realm of the Dead?” Ryoo dared ask, and Padmé could have kissed her for that bit of normalcy.</p><p>“Of course, sweetheart,” she promised. “Of course.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I modeled Jobal Naberrie after Mrs Bennet from P&amp;P ... in case anyone couldn't tell.<br/>And I can safely say that writing action scenes is HELL.<br/>Hopefully it wasn't too awful! XD<br/>Also, I'm sad about Savage again.<br/></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. V - Mustafar</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>*sweats nervously*<br/>here have a chapter<br/>*disappears*</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>V</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Mustafar</strong>
</p><p> </p><p> “I’m ready,” Padmé whispered, sitting on the carpeted floor, hugging her knees close to her chest. Her family—Mother and Father, Sola, Darred and the girls—had left her alone, with many an empty phrase and dual meaning.</p><p>She wasn’t sure how she felt about the whole thing. On one hand, she was immensely glad that she would not have to flee against their wishes, but on the other … she supposed she had hoped for a bit more enthusiasm on their side. This was an opportunity of a lifetime. She just wished they would see it as such, too.</p><p>Anakin appeared, with his usual flash of dark light, although much subdued.</p><p>She let out a humourless chuckle. “Ought I to presume that you have just been showing off up until now, or …?”</p><p>He had gotten rid of the mask, which allowed her to see the slight quirk of his lips. Slowly, he sat on the plush carpeted floor next to her. “Perhaps.”</p><p>“I see,” she said.</p><p>“How did it go?”</p><p>She looked up at him, surprised. “You don’t know? I would have thought a Jedi knows everything.”</p><p>“I’m not a Jedi,” he countered, resting his chin in his hand. “And … I may have made a point not to look …? Privacy, and all that.”</p><p>“Ah. Thank you, I guess.”</p><p>He shrugged. “So?”</p><p>Padmé sighed. “I honestly have no idea. They are …” she forced her lips to curve upwards. “How is it colloquially known? Not angry, but disappointed.”</p><p>“Huh. You have <em>no idea</em> how many times I have heard that phrase from Obi-Wan’s lips,” Anakin said, shaking his head ruefully.</p><p>“Grey hairs, eh?” she drawled, chuckling despite everything. “Perhaps I should offer him some greater sacrifice, if the poor man has had to deal with you and Ahsoka for three thousand years.”</p><p>“It’s only been two and a half thousand for Ahsoka.”</p><p>She rolled her eyes. “Yes, because that makes it so much better. Grey hairs, remember?”</p><p>“Grey hairs, indeed.” He paused, and grinned widely. “I can’t believe I have managed to disappoint your parents without even mentioning the very suspicious absence of a special area dedicated to tea-drinking in my palace.”</p><p>She chuckled. “Yes … you have also fought a Sith in my mother’s tea parlour, but let us just … ignore that titbit for now, shall we?”</p><p>He grimaced. “Technically, we fought her <em>together</em> … so you are just as guilty as I am, my lady.”</p><p>“You caught me,” she said, unblinking. “So … what happens now? With Ventress?”</p><p>Anakin shrugged. “She is to be interrogated. We need to pull as much information from her as possible before presenting her to the Jedi High Council, who will doubtlessly wish to keep her imprisoned in Ahch-To. It would give me too much power and sway to have her in Mustafar, and all that. Not to mention that allowing us to keep her would send a message to the Realms—that Ahch-To is willing to bow to Mustafar’s will.” His grin was just the slightest bit bitter. “Not something they would wish for.”</p><p>Padmé felt her brows shoot up. She hadn’t even thought of that. “At least they shan’t be able to deny the return of the Sith, then. Not with one very angry Sith Lady kicking and screaming in front of them.”</p><p>“Ah-ah,” said Anakin wiggling his pointer finger in her face. “<em>Never</em> underestimate the High Council.”</p><p>She laughed. It felt … refreshing. “I shall try not to. So, do we go to Mustafar now, or …?”</p><p>He nodded, and extended a gloved hand. “Ready?”</p><p>“As ready as I shall ever be,” said she, extending her own, and closing her eyes.</p><p>“Hold tight,” Anakin said, and then they were in the vortex again.</p><p>When they emerged on the other side, Padmé’s eyes still shut tightly, she was surprised to feel warm, scented breeze and sunlight on her face.</p><p>Carefully, she opened her eyes—and found herself before a view like could barely comprehend.</p><p>They were standing at the edge of a cliff, overlooking a snow-capped mountain. A city larger than Theed thrived at its foot while a palace perched at the top, built of dark marble.</p><p>“I figured you might want to appreciate the scenery this time around,” Anakin said. Padmé tore her eyes away from the view to see him standing awkwardly, one hand brushing the back of his neck. “So … what do you think?”</p><p>He tried to hide it, but she could tell he was anxious for her answer. She looked back at the city—it wasn’t any less breath taking the second time around.</p><p>“It’s beautiful,” she told him, honestly. “I’m guessing Ahsoka got the idea for <em>her</em> mountainside palace from you, then?”</p><p>He shrugged. “Copycat.”</p><p>Padmé could not help but laugh again. “And here I thought Mustafar was all lava and the screams of the damned.”</p><p>“That would be the Fields of Punishment,” Anakin explained. “Why in Father’s name would I want to live there?”</p><p>“I guess that makes sense,” she accepted. “And what is this?”</p><p>“The capitol city. They call it the Dark Monolith, presumably because of the towers.” He pointed at the elegant black spires that rose from the palace. “It’s inhabited by the Spirits of the Light and other minor gods, mostly.” He took her hand into his and pointed it into the distance, left of the mountain. “There, we have the Heavenly Isles, amidst the Great Azure Sea.”</p><p>“Lovely,” Padmé said.</p><p>“We’ll go for a visit sometime,” he promised, moved her hand again, this time to point to the mountain’s right, and continued. “The Purgatory is there, in a depression between the three peaks of the Devastator Mountains.”</p><p>“And the Fields of Punishment?” she asked.</p><p>“Behind us,” Anakin replied. “That is also where the Veil is.”</p><p>“Terrific,” she snorted.</p><p>Anakin chuckled. “We’ll see how brave you are when faced with it.”</p><p>Padmé cocked her head. “Do you doubt my courage, Lord Vader?” she said, grinning like an idiot.</p><p>“Not for a second, Your Highness,” Anakin promised. “Shall we?”</p><p>In response, Padmé gripped his gloved hand tighter, and then they vanished.</p><p>Instead of reappearing in his dark throne room, they found themselves in a wide hallway, before a towering door whose frame was inscribed with delicate golden symbols.</p><p>She curved a brow.</p><p>“It’s—erm,” Anakin stumbled, fidgeting with the hem of his overcoat, “your chambers. Since, well … I figured you wouldn’t want to sleep on the floor or anything.”</p><p>“Perceptive,” said she.</p><p>“The décor is Vaneé’s fault,” he said quickly. “Since … you know, despite everything, he is still a crow, and quite fond of sparkling things. But you can redecorate according to your wishes, of course.”</p><p>“A crow designed my chambers,” she said, chuckling. “Dreadful.”</p><p>He sent a flat look her way.</p><p>“I think I’ll be fine,” she reassured him. “You, on the other hand, really need to change.”</p><p>He looked down at himself, clothes torn and stained with blood. “Ah … yes, probably.”</p><p>Padmé rolled her eyes, leaning onto the door with one shoulder and crossing her hands over her chest. “I can’t believe you went to meet with my parents like that.”</p><p>“Hey,” said he, strangely defensive, “they didn’t seem to mind.”</p><p>“That’s because they were too shocked, having to entertain a <em>god</em> of all things in Mother’s tea parlour to notice anything was amiss, my friend,” she spoke, grinning. “That is almost—and I repeat, <em>almost</em> as bad as not having a tea parlour of your own.”</p><p>“It’s good that I didn’t give away that particular detail, then,” Anakin said gravely. “Shall I have one built?”</p><p>She laughed. “Whatever for?”</p><p>“Why, Princess, all your tea drinking-related activities. I can’t imagine you to be comfortable living here without one.”</p><p>“I suppose I shall have to adapt,” Padmé replied, as gravely as she could manage.</p><p>“Do inform me if you think of something that might ease the transition, Your Highness,” said he, putting a hand on his heart, a picture of sincerity were it not for the slight twinkle in his cerulean eyes.</p><p>“I shall,” she promised, as earnest as a person on the verge of cracking up could be. “One more question, though.”</p><p>“Anything.”</p><p>“Those,” she said, pointing at the set of symbols engraved in the dark wood of the doorframe. “What are they?” They looked familiar, like she <em>should</em> know what they mean, yet couldn’t place the meaning anywhere. The result left her frustrated.</p><p>Anakin’s brows shot up. “You don’t know? It’s a script … The Ones came up with it … it’s <em>the</em> script that your mortal one is derived from.”</p><p>She looked at the symbols again … yes, there was some similarity between them and the mortal scripts. “I see. What does it say?”</p><p>“Blessings … wards against evil.” He shrugged. “It was a custom when I was born in—”</p><p>“Tatooine?” she finished for him. A shadow passed over his face, but it disappeared soon enough.</p><p>“Yes.” He lingered. “When I had this place built, I was still deeply rooted in that culture.” He flushed, and looked down.</p><p>“But not anymore?” Padmé wondered, and Anakin sighed.</p><p>“I don’t know what I am anymore,” he said softly.</p><p>It occurred to Padmé then … that he truly did not.</p><p>One, yet raised as a mortal.</p><p>Harbinger of Dark, yet Champion of the Light.</p><p>Neither Sith nor Jedi—a child, not of the Daughter or the Son, but of the Father himself.</p><p>She had only known him for … hours, really, soon to be a full day. But she had seen him interact with the Jedi, and she’d seen him interact with the Sith.</p><p>Was it lonely? Strange?</p><p>No Jedi or Sith was ever alone. But Anakin was one of a kind. The other Ones died—or whatever happens to immortals when the very realm they are in falls apart—three thousand years ago.</p><p>Slowly, she brought a hand to his forearm—the sleeve of his overcoat was still crusted with dried blood.</p><p>His eyes widened at the contact, and for a moment, Padmé amused herself with the realization that she’d caught the most powerful being in existence unawares.</p><p>Then, she realized she had no idea what to do next.</p><p>She opened her mouth to say something, anything … “Neither do I, really,” she offered.</p><p>“Yes,” he huffed, eyes earnest and face open. “I guess … I guess you don’t.”</p><p>She shrugged. “I … I should probably get some sleep.”</p><p>“Of course,” Anakin said quickly.</p><p>“Well, then,” she smiled. “Bye, I suppose.”</p><p>He grinned. “Bye.”</p>
<hr/><p>It really wasn’t as bad as Anakin was making it sound. All right, all her furniture was polished to a shine, the fabrics were all woven through with gold, and she counted at least five mirrors of various sizes throughout the rooms, but other than that, Vaneé’s crow-like tendencies didn’t show too much.</p><p>And then there were the handmaidens—two pretty human women, with the ethereal glow to their skin that she supposed meant they were Spirits of the Light.</p><p>“Hello,” she said, unsure how to proceed.</p><p>“Your Highness,” they said in unison, bowing.</p><p>Supressing a yawn—gods, she was tired, and she hadn’t even noticed until she’d spotted the beautiful inviting bed with fluffy white sheets and a dark wooden headboard, twin lamps glowing with soft, warm light on either side of it.</p><p>“That was really creepy,” she said.</p><p>The left one, a bit taller but other than that still eerily similar to the other girl, burst into a fit of giggles. “I told you,” she told the other.</p><p>The other in question’s lip twitched slightly. “Excuse my sister, Your Highness. She has a rather immature sense of humour.”</p><p>Padmé allowed herself a smile. “There is nothing to forgive.” She paused. “Who, if I may ask …?”</p><p>“I’m Tsabin,” the stoic one said, “and this is Cordyn.”</p><p>“And we’re your handmaidens!” Cordyn squealed, spreading her arms. She reminded Padmé of the characters from the children’s plays that travelling entertainers would bring to Theed on the fair day.</p><p>“I see,” she said. “I’m Padmé, and …” she frowned. “You’ll forgive me, but I haven’t slept since before the Feast for Souls, and I’m exhausted.”</p><p>“Of course, Your Highness,” Tsabin chirped, while Cordyn strode over to an armoire and took out a soft silken nightgown. They helped Padmé out of her heavy blacks, chatting animatedly, and contending themselves with her noncommittal, one word answers.</p><p>She was asleep before her head hit the pillow.</p>
<hr/><p>Ventress was alone, in the cold, unfriendly dark. She didn’t know how long has it been since the battle—it could have been a few minutes of a few hours. Or even longer. She had lost all sense of time long ago. Moraband’s skies were always gloomy, its sunlight never warm enough. There was no night or day. Just exile.</p><p>It was torture, being locked away, hyper-sensitive to all sounds, agonizing over impossible scenarios—that insolent godling may have betrayed the Sith, but he was still not above using the tricks he had learned from Lord Sidious. It left a bitter taste in her mouth.</p><p>She had been thrown into a cell, and tied to a chair with golden chains that came to life and moved of their own volition, slithering across her skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake, and locking her power away. She’d heard of those—Fulcrum’s blacksmiths had invented them.</p><p>At first, she could do little other than focusing on healing the wound on her back—whatever dagger that girl had thrown was a mortal weapon, and under normal circumstances, it would present little to no difficulty to Ventress, even if the mortal was one hell of a markswoman. But the godling<em> did</em> something to the wound, and made it infuriatingly slow to heal.</p><p>It angered her to no end.</p><p>Then, in that endless darkness, a light shone. Ventress let out a furious cry and shut her eyes against the onslaught. She would have buried her face in her hands too, had the chains allowed it.</p><p>“What a sorry sight,” she heard a croaky voice say.</p><p>“Hush,” another one interrupted, male and heavily accented.</p><p>Finally, she opened her eyes, to see a human man, dark-skinned and fair haired, dressed in shades of blue and black. There was a crow perched on his shoulder.</p><p>“Lady Ventress,” the human, owner of the second voice, said, face like hewn from stone.</p><p>“She’s no lady,” the crow commented. The human sent a glare his way, but Ventress didn’t care. Her self-confidence could take being insulted by a <em>bird</em>.</p><p>“Lady Ventress,” the human continued, and began circling around her chair. The light followed him as he walked. “Part of the second generation of the Sith, daughter of Lady Talzin, sister to Lord Maul. Instrumental to the Sith victory in the battle of Kamino, the enslavement of Kashyyyk, and the success of operation <em>Clockwork</em>.”</p><p>“Any more compliments?” she asked, curving a brow and smiling, even if smiling was the last thing she cared to do right now.</p><p>The human paused and raised his brows, the only reaction he would show. “Managed to stay out of the Jedi’s clutches until the very end of the war, sealed in Moraband together with Lord Sidious,” he finished.</p><p>“Of course,” Ventress growled, rolling her eyes, “I was unaware of my own history. Thank you for reminding me of all that.”</p><p>“She talks too much,” the crow … well, <em>crowed</em>. The human ignored it.</p><p>“Lady Ventress,” the human spoke again, all stuck-up and official, “you are under arrest—”</p><p>“I never would have guessed,” Ventress said sweetly, rolling her chained wrists for emphasis.</p><p>“You are under arrest,” he snapped, “for an attempted assassination attempt—”</p><p>“That’s a lot of <em>A</em>s,” she interrupted again, pursing her lips.</p><p>The human paused, a confounded expression contorting his face.</p><p>“I’m just saying,” she shrugged. “<em>A</em>rrest, <em>a</em>ttempted, <em>a</em>ssassination, <em>a</em>ttempt again …”</p><p>“Vaneé's right,” the man said, “you <em>do</em> talk too much.”</p><p><em>Vaneé</em> … the name seemed familiar, even though she couldn’t exactly place it. It was connected, somehow, to that insolent little godling … though, since she was trapped in <em>his palace</em>, that was a given.</p><p>She grinned. “No-one’s ever complained before.”</p><p>“I cannot imagine why,” the human replied. “Well then, Lady Ventress, just because you’re so uninterested in the regular procedure, does not mean it won’t be done.” He smiled, his first real expression. It was small, and vile. “I understand you might not be familiar with the Treaty of Coruscant, since it did come … <em>after</em> your time,” the smirk widened, “but it would be rather foolish of <em>us</em> to disregard the decided-upon procedures when it comes to dealing with the prisoners of war.”</p><p>Oh, the bastard.</p><p>He was clever, she’d give him that—humiliating her, reminding her of her failures …</p><p>She said nothing, and he pressed on. “You are under arrest for an attempted assassination attempt on Lord Vader and Princess Naberrie, and will thus face the justice of Mustafar.”</p><p>Very intentionally, Ventress yawned. “Are you quite done?”</p><p>The human’s lip twitched. “Not quite.”</p><p>She rolled her eyes. “Marvellous.”</p><p>“Don’t play dumb, Ventress,” the crow snapped. “You know why we are here.”</p><p>“Oh, no,” she said sweetly. “I cannot imagine.”</p><p>“Well then,” the bird continued, in an equally saccharine tone, “let us remind you.”</p>
<hr/><p>“My lord, a visitor has arrived.”</p><p>Anakin was pouring over the maps of all Four Realms, plotting, strategizing, when the words shook him out of his thoughts.</p><p>He didn’t turn to look at the messenger, even though he recognized him by voice—he was the younger son of a Mustafarian lady from one of the port cities, sent to court for want of a better employment.</p><p>“Are they important enough to warrant me meeting them? If not, tell them to go away.”</p><p>He could sense the page’s confusion. It gave him a twinkle of dark amusement—no doubt the boy’s mother was far more formal with <em>his</em> servants, despite being nothing more than minor noble. But this was Anakin’s home, and he wasn’t going to ruin it by being all posh and proper.</p><p>“It’s Lord Ben, sire.”</p><p>Oh.</p><p>“That’s important enough,” Anakin conceded, turning away from his maps. “I take it he’s waiting in the receiving hall?”</p><p>“Yes, my lord.”</p><p>Anakin rolled his eyes. “I told him a million …” he huffed out a breath. “Never mind. Tell him to wait for me in the library—I shall attend to him there.”</p><p>Quarter of an hour later, Obi-Wan was indeed waiting for him in the library, regal as always in his whites and golds, not a speckle of dust out of place.</p><p>“Anakin,” said he by way of greeting, but Anakin held up a hand before he could continue.</p><p>“I told you a <em>million</em> times, there’s no need to go through official channels, and <em>receiving rooms</em>.”</p><p>Obi-Wan stiffened. “It’s not proper—”</p><p>Anakin just raised a brow, in lieu of <em>do you really think I care?</em></p><p>“In my home—by the Ones, <em>in all of Mustafar</em>, proper is whatever I deem it so.” He allowed the slightest quirk of his lip. “Now, are you here for yourself, or in the name of the Council?”</p><p>He gestured towards one of the armchairs, and they sat, while a hurried servant brought a glass of some amber liquid for Obi-Wan, who accepted it gracefully and took a sip while they were waiting for the servant to leave.</p><p>Anakin crossed an ankle over his knee, and leaned his chin against his wrist. Obi-Wan’s posture was still very stiff. He was looking at the tumbling liquor with an expression of deep concentration.</p><p>“What is this?” he asked finally.</p><p>Anakin couldn’t quite contain his startled expression. “I haven’t a clue.”</p><p>“No, of course you wouldn’t,” Obi-Wan sighed.</p><p>Perhaps some time ago, Anakin would have bristled, but he’s since learned not to care.</p><p>“It’s not my fault alcohol is disgusting,” he said, shrugging.</p><p>Obi-Wan curved a groomed auburn brow. “You are only bitter because you are the lightest lightweight in existence.”</p><p>“Alcohol is disgusting,” Anakin persisted, “and it makes one lose the full possession of their wit.”</p><p>“True enough, even though I shall have to disagree with the first part.” Obi-Wan conceded, taking another sip. “Whatever it is, it’s good.”</p><p>Anakin gave him a few minutes before speaking again. “You haven’t answered my question, Obi-Wan.”</p><p>“No,” Obi-Wan said, “I suppose I have not.”</p><p>“Are you planning on doing so in the foreseeable time?”</p><p>Obi-Wan sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. Anakin felt his eyebrows shoot up. Obi-Wan has never allowed himself to loosen so much before. “Both.”</p><p>“Both?”</p><p>He sighed again. “Officially, I was sent to … plead with you. To come back to your senses. Dispense with this ridiculous notion of war. Return the Naboo Princess to her family.” He paused. “Where is she, by the way?”</p><p>“Resting,” Anakin said. He couldn’t help a faint smile that lit up his face at the thought of her. “She has had a trying day.”</p><p>“An understatement, I imagine,” Obi-Wan huffed, taking another sip and finishing the glass off.</p><p>“You imagine correctly.” Anakin hesitated. “… And …. Unofficially?”</p><p>“I wish I knew,” Obi-Wan groaned.</p><p>“So you don’t believe me,” Anakin surmised. “But you came nonetheless. Because the Council sent you, because they thought <em>you</em> could control me.”</p><p>Obi-Wan laughed humourlessly. “I don’t think anyone suffers from the illusion that anyone could control <em>you</em>. Not anymore.”</p><p>A shiver went down Anakin’s spine. <em>Sidious could</em>, the intrusive thought came, unbidden.</p><p>“Advise, then,” he said.</p><p>“If it makes you feel any better, they sent Plo to plead with Ahsoka,” Obi-Wan offered, smiling a hanged man’s smile.</p><p>It didn’t, but Anakin didn’t voice that thought aloud.</p><p>“Regardless,” he went on. “You don’t believe me.”</p><p>There was a spark of betrayal in Obi-Wan’s eyes, one that only served to incense him further. Oh, <em>Obi-Wan</em> was the one feeling betrayed here, was he?</p><p>But before Anakin could speak, he was stunned into silence by the Lord of Justice jumping to his feet, hands tangled in his auburn hair. “I don’t know <em>what</em> to believe, Anakin!”</p><p>He stopped, and tried in vain to calm himself before setting off to pace in an agitated manner, ranting all the while. “I <em>want</em> to believe you, I really do, and I do not think you would lie about something like this, nor do I see what you could possibly have to gain by lying, but …”</p><p> “But,” Anakin repeated, challenging.</p><p>“But you heard Lord Yoda,” Obi-Wan said, shaking his head. As if that made any difference. “It’s simply … impossible.”</p><p>“Well, clearly it isn’t,” Anakin snapped, “because Yoda is <em>wrong.</em>”</p><p>Obi-Wan jerked at that, staring at him. “Yoda is never wrong.”</p><p>Anakin rolled his eyes, half-expecting to hear Obi-Wan chide him for it. “That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard.” He raised a hand to hold up an oncoming torrent of Obi-Wan’s protests. “Don’t interrupt me. That sort of thinking is stupid and harmful, but that is not the issue at hand.”</p><p>Obi-Wan gaped like a fish.</p><p>“What the issue at hand <em>is</em> is the fact that the Sith have returned. And I can prove it.”</p><p>“How?” Obi-Wan demanded, desperation palpable. “Are you going to take me to the Fields of Punishment to see the broken remnants of the Veil myself?”</p><p>Anakin had to pause. Obi-Wan really was affected by this, he realized.</p><p>“No,” he said, as gentle as he could, and flashed a half smile. “That would be rather difficult, considering I’ve resealed it.”</p><p>“You …” Obi-Wan paused, eyes narrow.</p><p>“How else could I trap Momin within?”</p><p>“You … oh. Right.” Obi-Wan had never looked so defeated before. It unnerved Anakin. It shouldn’t be like that, Obi-Wan was <em>always</em> the put<em>-</em>together one, the good one, the one that made the High Council proud. Next to him, Anakin was used to playing the role of the maverick and the rogue. The one who got the job done, but never expected praise nor commendation, simply because he was so used to not getting it. He’d gotten over it long ago.</p><p>“So how do you plan to prove it, then?” Obi-Wan said, drawing Anakin from his thoughts.</p><p>Anakin grinned. “Do you happen to remember the condition the Council made as to Padmé being allowed to stay with me?”</p><p>Obi-Wan’s brow shot up at the familiar way he addressed the Princess, but Anakin didn’t have either the time or the will to ponder that any further. He watched with mild interest as Obi-Wan carefully lowered himself back into the armchair, and poured another finger of the liquor out of the crystal decanter the servants have left for him.</p><p>“You were to make an alliance with the King and the Queen of Naboo,” he said.</p><p>“Exactly. That is complete, by the way, so you may report that to your puppet masters,” Anakin began.</p><p>“<em>Ah-</em>nakin!” Obi-Wan said, in that distinct tone of voice that Anakin knew so well. “They are not—how can you even insinuate—”</p><p>Anakin watched patiently as Obi-Wan slowly turned into a spluttering mess, and then, even slower, calmed himself enough to finish this conversation.</p><p>“Mere moments after the alliance was signed,” he went on, “a Sith Lady known as Ventress attacked.”</p><p>He would be lying if he were to say that the sight of all colour leaving Obi-Wan’s face wasn’t at least a little bit satisfying.</p><p>“Working together, Padmé and I defeated her, and she is currently imprisoned down in my dungeons.”</p><p>Obi-Wan was now staring at him with open disbelief.</p><p>“Do you think I’m lying about this?” Anakin chuckled, torn between amusement and indignation.</p><p>“I …” Obi-Wan swallowed audibly. “I’m not sure.”</p><p>Anakin quirked his lip. “That was reassuring.”</p><p>Obi-Wan gave him an annoyed look and began massaging his temples. “I don’t know what to do with you.”</p><p>Anakin shrugged. “You’re not the only one.”</p><p>“Evidently,” Obi-Wan sighed. “You understand, of course, that I need to see Ventress to believe this. How do I know you haven’t just locked a random Zabrak in a cell?”</p><p>Anakin felt himself stiffen. “<em>Do not</em> say things like that,” he snarled.</p><p>Obi-Wan stopped, took a deep breath, and steeled himself. “I … forgive me. That was uncalled for.”</p><p>He waited, and Anakin offered a nod. He couldn’t muster up more. Didn’t want to. <em>Would </em>not.</p><p>The hurt in Obi-Wan’s eyes was almost enough to shake his resolve—<em>almost</em>, but not<em> enough.</em></p><p>“Are you …” Obi-Wan spoke, when it became apparent Anakin would not, “are you going to take me to her?”</p><p>For a moment, Anakin debated the merits of just leaving Obi-Wan hanging, but … no. No, he couldn’t do that to him.</p><p>“I want Padmé to be present,” he explained. “And she is currently asleep.”</p><p>“I see,” Obi-Wan said, stroking his beard in a familiar gesture. “And I suppose you cannot be persuaded to change your mind about this?” He said it in a tone that indicated he well knew the question was in vain—just a game.</p><p>“You suppose correctly,” Anakin answered, smiling sweetly. He was never overly fond of Obi-Wan’s games.</p><p>Obi-Wan sighed, but said nothing.</p><p>For all that he didn’t want to, Anakin kept track of time that passed while they waited, Anakin with a notebook, marking possible strategies and detailing preparations for the war, Obi-Wan with a book and some more of that liquor. It was a habit leftover from the Great War, one not even three millennia of peace have managed to supress. He could count seconds by listening to his heartbeat.</p><p>And it took exactly two hours, twenty-seven minutes and three seconds for Padmé to enter the library, dressed in a dark blue gown, hair falling down her shoulder in a simple braid, and a circlet of gold adorning her brow.</p><p>He shut the notebook and felt his lips curve upwards of their own volition.</p><p>“Tsabin told me you wanted to see me,” she said, quickly passing the few steps that separated them. “Is this about Ventress?”</p><p>Anakin nodded. “I didn’t want to do it without you … you are, after all, the most deserving one in her capture.”</p><p>Padmé wrinkled up her nose. “Are we really getting into this again? You’re the one who fought her.”</p><p>“And you’re the one who <em>beat</em> her,” he countered, beaming.</p><p>“Hmm,” Padmé mumbled, then grinned, crossing her arms over her chest. “All right. I shall let you have this.”</p><p>He opened his mouth to say something else, but he was interrupted by Obi-Wan’s pointed cough behind him. Padmé’s eyes widened—she hadn’t realized he was there. But she got a hold of herself, and turned to Obi-Wan with a pleasant smile.</p><p>“Lord Ben, if I remember correctly?” she said, curtsying.</p><p>“Quite right, Your Highness,” Obi-Wan replied, bowing at the waist. “And please, it’s Obi-Wan.”</p><p>“Well, in that case, I can’t have you keep calling me <em>Your Highness</em>. Padmé, please.”</p><p>“Padmé,” Obi-Wan acquiesced. “Well, Anakin, may we go now?”</p><p>Anakin couldn’t help the eye roll. “We may.”</p><p>“Where are you keeping her?” Padmé asked.</p><p>“The palace is carved into the mountain,” Anakin explained. What you see from the outside is just the tip of the iceberg. We use it mostly for living quarters, since it is the loveliest area.”</p><p>“Like my chambers.”</p><p>He felt heat pool on his cheeks. “Erm … yes.” He fumbled with the edge of his sleeve for a bit, there was a loose thread there … “The dungeons are on the lowest level, deep inside the belly of Mount Resolute.”</p><p>“Resolute, eh?” Padmé asked. “It fits.”</p><p>“I am glad you think so,” he said, and offered her his elbow. She hooked her arm into his.</p><p>“Shall we?” she said, dark eyes gleaming mischievously.</p><p>Anakin grinned. “Indeed we shall.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Me??? Naming Mustafarian mountains after Anakin/Vader's canon flagships??? What???</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading!!!</p><p>
  <a href="https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/stars-and-darkness">Tumblr.</a>
</p></blockquote></div></div>
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